


No Rest For The Wicked (Love is Kind)

by midnightcas



Series: Corinthians 13:4 [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - Bakery, Awesome Boyd, BAMF Allison, Baker Stiles Stilinski, Christmas Fluff, Claudia Stilinski Feels, Deputy Derek, Derek Uses His Words, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hale Family Feels, Happy Ending, Homeless Isaac Lahey, Homelessness, Hurt Isaac, Hurt Stiles, Inspired by Real Events, Isaac Feels, M/M, Married Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Mild Racism Mentioned, Nice Jackson, Pack Building, Pack Mother Stiles Stilinski, Protective Derek, Protective Pack, Robbery, Sassy Erica, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Sweet Isaac, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-06 10:37:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 31,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8747254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightcas/pseuds/midnightcas
Summary: When a homeless, scared for his life, kid attempts to hold up Stiles Stilinski's bakery, the last thing he expected was to be offered a muffin...or a job...."I have a feeling that you don’t want to be a felon on the run from the cops your whole life. Especially over such a stupid thing like robbing a bakery. Murder I’d get, but this?”“Well," his eyes fall to the gun, "I might murder you.”Stiles swallowed.





	1. Trust Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, so this is Part II of Corinthians 13:4 (Love is kind) and is based off the article linked at the end.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to this mess.

It was a late Sunday afternoon in October when Stiles was putting in a few extra hours in at the shop.

He had opened the restaurant/bakery straight out of college. It got a few raised eyebrows from the townies, as most of them suspected that he would follow his father’s footsteps into law enforcement. However, his mother had always talked about opening up her own local eatery, her food was so good that it was often the topic of discussion for days after she’d drop off a batch of cookies or brownies at the police station or community center. When she had died, even at his young age, Stiles knew that he’d do something one day in her honor, and fulfilling her legacy seemed to be the best option. His dad thought so too when he opened _Claudia’s_ on the strip downtown.

It was a hit. Kira did the baking and Cora did the cooking. Jackson was their sous chef and Lydia, while pursuing higher education, focused on the financials. Allison, Malia and Liam waited on customers while Stiles manned the bakery’s front desk. Beacon Hills was small enough that they didn’t need a huge staff, even when it was “busy”. Besides, Stiles liked it this way. It gave the entire place a warm, homey feel, which he assumed his customers liked about the place. His father gave him an endorsement, having all the cops flock there for lunch or breakfast, people who knew his mother would always come in and exclaim how proud she would have been of him (at first he had gotten misty eyed and glum, but now it only made him grin and his heart swell). The curious old ladies have given it a try and ended up returning while the middle aged mothers, who just thought Stiles was “a hoot” and “adorable”, often came in for brunch and for a good flirt and entertainment. Sometimes Liam would bring his friends in after school to do some work and hangout. All in all, _Claudia’s_ was a pretty successful place (and his Yelp reviews were excellent).

Except on Sundays. The bakery was the only thing open Sunday, the restaurant and coffee area closed. Sometimes they’d get a few people in to pick up pastries or some other form of baked goods, but Sundays were quiet. Sundays were nice and relaxing. They were good. Stiles always gave the others the day off and would use the time for some therapeutic baking or to clean up shop. Sometimes Laura would drop her daughter Addie off for her to help or Scott and Allison would drop their daughter Victoria to him while they took a lunch date. It’s not like Stiles ever minded. For the most part they’d help stir the mixes or fetch him ingredients or they’d just sit in the corner and color or watch the television Jackson had made Stiles put in the break room. He rather enjoyed their company. However, on this particular Sunday, he was glad he had been alone.

 

As he said, Sundays were pretty barren. So, when the chime of the bell went off, Stiles turned to welcome his customer with a wide smile. A wide smile that immediately disappeared once he realized that the newcomer had no intentions of buying a dozen or so cookies.

A young man stood there, aged clothes, sooty face. He couldn’t have been any older than Liam, but his eyes showed great aging. His, what Stiles presumed to be blonde hair, looks dusty and gross. He vaguely reminded Stiles of PigPen from the peanuts. He would have maybe found this discovery a little funny, if it hadn’t been for the fact that PigPen had a gun pointed to his head demanding money.

And of course Stiles was scared. He had a gun to his head, _of course_ he was scared. But he had faced fairies and demons and kanimas and trolls--God, he _hated_ trolls. He’d be damned if he was taken down by a robber. A _human_ nonetheless. So he did what he did best, he talked.

“Money. In the bag.”

“Sure,” Stiles said easily.

He put in the false code for the register, alerting the police there’d been a robbery while allowing him to open the drawer unsuspiciously. He had approximately four minutes before the cavalry showed up. He could withstand four minutes. Before he reached for the cash, he studied the boy again. He felt an unfamiliar rush of fondness for him, which was enough to throw him off.

“ _N_ _ow_ ,” the boy gritted through his teeth, panickedly darting his eyes around the room.

Stiles shrugged. He thought of his Mom then. What she would do if she was standing there and not him. She had a motherly calm to her that people of all ages and walks of life clung to. She’d...she’d probably hug PigPen and offer him a cup of coffee and a muffin. And PigPen would probably let her. Stiles...Stiles was _not_ motherly. He was abrasive. He turned people _off_ . But there was just something about this guy...about this _kid_ that Stiles yearned for. Like he was doing this because he had to. There was something in his eyes, underlying. He couldn’t pick it out. But he had the feeling that if _he_ offered PigPen some coffee and a muffin he wouldn’t say no either.

Stiles shrugged, “Why don’t you get a job,” he asked conversationally as he began scooping the money into the bag.

“What?”

“I mean,” he shrugged again, still focusing on the money, “this seems much more difficult than filling out an application.”  
  
“And who says I haven’t?”

“I don’t know, who?”

“It sounds like you’re implying that I don’t have a job because I don’t want one.”

“Well, is that the reason you’re stealing from me?”  
  
“It’s not stealing when you’re the one giving it to me.”  
  
Stiles snorted.  
  
“ _Have_ you tried?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Getting a job.”  
  
“Does it matter? Just hurry.”  
  
The gun cocked. Stiles swallowed. The realization of the situation finally setting in.

“Look, I won’t call the cops if you just tell me why you don’t have a job. Deal?”  
  
PigPen snorted, “Yeah right.”

“I won’t.”  
  
“Why does it even matter?”

“I just like to know the people who are stealing from me. Oh, I mean, the people I’m giving my money too. Of course.”

“It's quite the sob story. My Mom died when I was ten. My brother went into the army, went overseas and never came back. My father abused me the minute after my brother left for training. When Camden died I left. I’ve been on my own for years now. It’s hard to find a job when you have no home address and have a record of petty charges like sleeping in public a mile long. I just ran out of the money Camden left me and I need to eat. No one liked a beggar. You get arrested for that sort of thing.”  
  
“You get arrested for armed robbery, too.”

The guy eyes him wearily.

Stiles takes him in again and realized that PigPen is just a lost, scared kid that has nowhere else to go but down. He had always had a problem with this stuff. Ever since his mother’s older brother Bobby had trouble finding work because of an idiot mistake he had made as a teenager. And then there was Derek, who only because of John had a job as a deputy. Just because he had been arrested that one time Stiles’ Sophomore year of high school he had been casted out. No one wanted to hire a murder suspected, even if he had been exonerated. These people had nowhere to go. Everyone talks about them needing to get their shit together, but then give them no opportunities or resources to do that. It made Stiles burn with a fury inside. He could only imagine how angry and frightened this kid was.

“What if _I_ hire you?”  
  
It’s out of his mouth before he even really thinks it through. Surprise? No, not really. Not for Stiles. PigPen sneers at that.

“Oh sure.”  
  
“I’m serious.”

“...Why?”  
  
“Because I want to give you a chance. I have a feeling that you don’t want to be a felon on the run from the cops your whole life. Especially over such a stupid thing like robbing a bakery. Murder I’d get, but this?”  
  
“I might murder you.”

Stiles swallows then because maybe he had read this entire situation all wrong.

“What’s your name?”  
  
“...Isaac.”  
  
“Isaac, I have a feeling you don’t want to do this.”  
  
“Feelings, great.”  
  
“I think you’re a good kid that got dealt a shitty hand. And I think that you’ve done your best to keep yourself from this exact scenario. But here we are. And I _think_ that given the opportunity, you would change that. So I’m giving you the opportunity. You can take this money and eat for a few weeks. Or you can take the job and eat for a few years. A paycheck biweekly. Something to do during the day, a place to be. Like I said, I’ll give you the money, Isaac. But I don’t think your main goal is this,” he says, holding out the bag, “I think your main goal is exactly what I’m offering you. Now, that’s your decision to make. But please don’t shoot me. I have a date in an hour.”

After a few moments of silence, Isaac lowers the gun.

“You’re serious.”  
  
“I am.”

“You’re seriously going to offer me a job after I just stood you up?”

“Yes. And I’m going to be standing my date up if you don’t decide soon.”

Isaac just looks at him.

“I...Yes. Yes. I’d like...yes. I’ll take the job. I--”  
  
Stiles holds up a hand and slides a muffin across the counter, “Sit we can talk about your responsibilities.”

Isaac sits and slowly reaches for the muffin. As soon as he grabs hold of it, the wail of sirens rips down the street. Isaac tenses as the doors swing open to the shop and Stiles finches. The look in Isaac’s eyes are scared and sad, but masked with understanding. Stiles twists his mouth and smiles at him sweetly. One of the officers cuff’s the unresistant boy and holds him there until the Sheriff runs in.  
  
“Stiles! Are you okay?”

He waves his hand around dismissively until John has him in a relieved hug.   
  
Between minute one and two they’re all shuffled outside. His dad takes his statement while Isaac is standing over by the other officers, who are waiting for their Sheriff’s call on the matter.

“I’m not pressing charges.”

“ _What_?”

“I’m not pressing charges,” he repeats.

“Stiles,” he starts, as if he was talking to an insane person, “he held a _gun_ to your head and--”  
  
“I’m fine. He was never going to hurt me.”

“Stiles--”  
  
“Dad, it was just a misunderstanding.”  
  
“A misunderstanding. About being robbed?”  
  
“Uh...yes?”

“Stiles, if this is another one of your projects, I don’t--”  
  
“Listen,” he sighs and explains Isaac’s story in brief detail, making sure to tug on some heart strings along the way.

Some would call him shameless. Stiles would agree.

“And I’m going to offer him a job.”  
  
“He’s dangerous.”  
  
“He’s not. He’s just a scared kid. So could you do me a favor and clean up his record a little bit?”  
  
“Stiles, you know I can’t--”  
  
“Not make things disappear, but like...set him up with a probation officer or volunteer opportunities so that he can clear the _stupid_ chargers, like sleeping in public and loitering and stuff? Whatever he has to do to...fix it up a bit?”

John sighs. It’s long and insufferable. Stiles remembers hearing the same sound come from the man around his mother, when she’s come up with an idea and there was no talking her out of it. They both look over to Isaac who’s huddled in on himself, looking frightened and scared.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

He smiles at his father. John pats his son’s shoulder and makes his way over to the boy, still looking three seconds away from pissing himself.

“Uncuff him,” he orders the officer, who obliges without question.

Isaac’s eyes widen as he turns to Stiles, “Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you.”

Stiles shushes him fondly and John seems to relax at the idea of it all at just that.

Which, of course, is when a chic black camaro rips into the parking lot, screeching it’s tires across the pavement at a speed that would have most definitely called for it to be pulled over for speeding if it not had been for the fact that most of Beacon Hill’s police force was currently in said parking lot.

“Oh boy,” John huffs out, unable to hide his amusement.

Stiles groans dramatically, “Damnit. Who called Derek?”

John chuckled softly, “Just because he’s off duty, doesn’t mean he doesn’t get the calls too, son.”

“Take Isaac to the station.”  
  
The boy all of a sudden looked panicked once again, but Stiles soothes this with a steady hand of his shoulder and a smile.

“This is my Dad,” he introduces, “he’ll explain everything on the way. I’ll pick you up once things gets settled here, alright?”

Isaac only looks at his hand and nods a bit. Then he’s shoving Isaac into the cruiser that his Dad is already in and a second later he’s being engulfed into a panicked hug.

“Who is that?” Isaac asks the Sheriff as the two pull away from the scene.

“My son-in-law. That a problem?”

He sees the man raise an eyebrow in the rearview mirror and blushes as he stutters out a “no, of course not, sir.”

Back in the parking lot Derek backs up enough so that he can inspect all of Stiles.  
  
“I’m fine, Der. Really. Nothing happened.”  
  
He growls, kissing the side of Stiles’ mouth, “Bullshit. Your Dad said you were being held at gunpoint. Where is he?”  
  
“My dad?” 

“The fucker that hurt you.”  
  
“I’m not hurt. Isaac didn’t do anything.”  
  
“Isaac?”

“The ‘fucker’. Honestly, Derek. I’m fine,” he confirms again, bringing Derek’s big hand to his chest so the Alpha could determine if he was lying for himself. As an afterthought he adds, “Addie better not have been in car with you!"

Derek blushed and tucked his face into the crook of Stiles’ neck, letting out a breath, “I was so worried.”  
  
Stiles sighs and brings a hand up to run his finger through inky hair and hold his husband’s head there in reassurance, “I know. I’m sorry. But really, it was all just a big misunderstanding. I’m _fine_.”

He feels Derek nod before he raises his head again to kiss Stiles.

While the police clear out after a cup or two of coffee and Laura comes to pick up Addie who kept blabbing about _how fast Uncle Derek went in his Batmobile_ , Stiles tries to explain the situation to Derek.

“Absolutely not, Stiles.”

“Der, he’s just a kid.”

“A _kid_ that held a gun to _my husbands_ head. He's lucky I didn't get here first.”

"It's not like you could have done anything," Stiles grumbled, folding his arms across his chest

"I was  _off duty_ ," Derek points out like it would have made any difference whatsoever.  
  
“How many times do I have to tell you that it was just a misunderstanding?”

“Plenty more, it seems.”

Stiles sighed and slid off the counter he was sitting on. He took a few steps towards his husband and placed a hand on his hip.

“Derek, he’s harmless. He’s scared and has nowhere to go. Besides, the rest of the pack will be here to keep an eye on him, if you’re really that worried.”  
  
“I am.”

“I know. And that’s very attractive but also very annoying.”

Derek snorts and leans down to rub his nose along Stiles’, “I love you.”  
  
“I love you too, Sourwolf. But you need to understand that I’m not in high school anymore and can make a few logical decisions on my own.”

“And you need to understand that you’re human. And you’re playing with fire. I don’t ever want to see you hurt. And I don’t want to be the one that lets you get yourself into a situation where you could be."  
  
Stiles closes his eyes and leans into Derek’s chest.

“Just...trust me on this one? Please.”  
  
Derek kisses him again and that’s all the confirmation Stiles needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what'd you think so far?? Much more to come.  
> Hope to see you all soon!!


	2. For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's Chapter 2
> 
> I had assumed this work to be 2 to 3 chapters, but of course I just cannot write anything correctly and it's going to end up being upwards to 5 or 6. Hopefully I can get down to the plot and skip over my immense amount of additive details. Whatever.
> 
> I hope you guys like it!!

After Stiles sweeps up the dirt left behind by Beacon Hill’s finest, Derek followed him down to the Police Station in the camaro, albeit reluctantly. When they got there Derek was immediately at his side, a hand spread on the small of his back as if he was ready to pull Stiles back to defend him at a moment's notice. For a while the habit had been smothering and bothersome, but eventually Stiles learned that it was just another part of the many layers that was Derek Hale. And if it made the werewolf feel better then Stiles supposed he was okay with it too. Especially after his family.

Derek always had a protective streak to him, even before they were dating, always having to know where Stiles was and who he was with. And before John knew about werewolves and Derek in general, he suspected that Stiles was in an abusive/controlling relationship. Which, he supposed was half true, seeing that the guy _ was _ his Alpha. And while it had been burdensome at times, Derek had gotten better. But every now and again, like now, when Stiles was in danger, whether it be stupidly mundane or outrageously supernatural, Derek would regress for a few days. And to be honest, Stiles really didn’t mind a day or two of his husband’s constant doting.

As they entered the busy station, they were welcomed by a chorus of greetings that ranged from respectful--to their Chief Deputy (which made Stiles adorably preen at his side), concerned ones having heard about the “stick up at  _ Claudia’s _ ” and excited ones once they’d seen the box of cookies Stiles had packed for them. The Station was a second home. After spending his days afterschool there or the many nights he had after his mother died or just being there to bring his father lunch, the staff was like a family. And now his husband worked there. So it didn’t seem like he’d be abandoning his constant visits anytime soon. Not that he would have.

After dropping the box of cookies in the break room, the two made their way back through the empty long hallways towards The Sheriff’s office. 

Isaac saw them first and immediately jumped at Stiles to hold him in a hug. Before Stiles could respond, however, Derek ripped the boy off, throwing and holding him against the adjacent wall. His teeth were bared and Stiles could feel his claws poking into his chest from the hand that had pushed him back away from his “attacker”. Isaac whimpered, making Stiles shake the off the shock and wiggle from his husband’s grip because he also needed to make sure Derek wouldn’t shift in front of this already completely terrified kid.

“ _ Derek _ ,” he scolded, making the man turn his head to blink at him.

After a moment of glaring at the boy Derek releases his grip and Stiles steps over to place a comforting hand on Isaac. The boy flinched away at first but then slowly relaxed into the touch, a reminder that the boy had been abused. It hit Stiles in the chest and suddenly he was angry.

“Go see what Dad,” he snapped at Derek through ground teeth.

“Stiles--”  
  
“Go Derek.”  
  
“Stiles-”

“ _ Not right now _ .”

Derek hesitated before clenching his jaw and opening the door to the Sheriff’s office. Stiles sighed realizing he didn’t have the right to be pissed, not so soon after the man that had just held him at gunpoint attempted to surprise hug attack him. But Derek should have been a little more calm, especially since he went from nice and placid to growly werewolf in under a second. Once Derek is gone Isaac lets out a shaky sigh.

“I...I’m sorry.”  
  
“Don’t,” Stiles dismissive, “he’s just a little worked up after everything.”  
  
Isaac drops his gaze, “Y-yeah. I’m sorry about that too.”

“Bygones,” he smiles, “Just...be careful around Derek for a while. He’s not very trusting.”

Isaac nods intensely, but Stiles’ grin just widens and gestures for Isaac to follow him out to the jeep.

“I don’t think having you stay over our house tonight would be the best decision, but we can set you up in the motel across the street for the night. Would that be alright?”

“I...I don’t have any money.”  
  
Stiles snorts, “No kidding.”

Isaac gives him a kindly meant grimace before speaking, “But--”

“It’s on me.”  
  
“I couldn’t--”  
  
“I’ll take it out of your paycheck. Come on. There’s a small one bedroom above the restaurant. It’s a bit messy with all our old junk right now, but we can have it all cleaned out by next week sometime. Will that work?”

Stiles turned his head to the passenger in his jeep that’s staring at him with disbelief in his eyes and a slacked jaw. He pulls on to the road and sneaks another look at the silent boy.

“Isaac?”

Without warning, the kid bursts into tears. Stiles stares in shock for a moment before he realizes what’s happening. He pulls onto the side of the road and hurried to unbuckle his seatbelt. Hesitantly, he slides over into Isaac’s space and wraps his arms around shaking shoulders.  
  
“It’s okay,” he murmurs.

“Thank you just....so much I don’t...thank you.”

An hour later, Isaac is settled into the room with instructions to be ready to be picked up in morning at nine. Stiles takes the long road home, relishing the blossoming feeling in his chest that he had just made a decision that would change someone’s life for the better. Maybe the restaurant wasn’t the thing done in Claudia’s honor, maybe extending a hand to Isaac was.

 

When he rolls up next the camaro, Derek is already standing on the porch, light on, waiting.

“Where have you  _ been _ ?”

“I was dropping Isaac off at the motel.”  
  
Derek rolls his eyes and moves his tongue in disbelief.

“What?” Stiles asks accusingly, shoving past him and into the warmth of their home, trying to get out of the frozen rain that had just started falling.

“You  _ know  _ what, Stiles. I told you I didn’t trust him and you went somewhere alone with him anyways.”

“And I told  _ you _ to trust _ me _ and you aren’t.”

Derek growls but Stiles just hold up an arm as if saying ‘come here’, which the werewolf does. He tucks himself under Stiles’ arm and rubs himself against the area's Isaac had touched him in a very obvious manner.

“You smell like him.”

Stiles hummed in agreement as he let Derek finish scenting him, “He’s not a wolf, he doesn’t know any better.”

Derek only rumbled in half agreement and then satisfaction once Stiles began rubbing up and down his spine.

“Stiles, I can’t lose you. Sometimes I think you forget.”

The human leans back and takes Derek’s face in his hand, “I never forget. I work in a bakery, Derek. With pack surrounding me. You, on the other hand, are always running head first into danger. I know you’d take a bullet for anyone in that station. And that’s terrifying for me. Everyday when the phone rings I assume the worst. And everyday when I kiss you goodbye I know that it could be the last time I ever see you. And then the werewolf business? Even more so. But I still let you live. I still let you make your decisions and mistakes and do whatever you have to do. Sometimes you forget that I love you just as much as you love me and to lose you would destroy me as much as losing me would destroy you.”  
  
It’s a conversation they’d had many times before this one and Stiles knew what was coming next.

“But you’re human,” Derek said quietly, “you’re so so so human, Stiles.  _ That’s _ what you forget. One accident and that’s it. And I lose you.”

“Hey, you might be a werewolf but you’re not indestructible. And I’m not a fragile flower either Derek. You’ve seen me hold my own time and time again.”  
  
“I know,” Derek admitted, running his own hand down the side of Stiles’ face, “It’s not you I don’t trust. It’s everyone else. I just...I’m scared that your willingness to give people the benefit of the doubt is going to get you in trouble one day.”

“It hasn’t yet.”  
  
“Meaning it’s due to come around any minute now.”  
  
“Derek. It’s not a matter of giving the benefit of the doubt, it’s about making a judgement call. And I haven’t been wrong once yet.”

“Luck,” Derek points out.

“Says the werewolf,” he smiles, “Look. I know it’s hard sometimes, but living in constant fear that something is going to happen is not living. And I know that you’ll look back and regret not doing everything you can in the short amount of time we have together. All you’ll remember is constant fear and worry and that’s no way to live Derek. You deserve everything. I just want us to be happy.”  
  
“I am happy.”

“Derek--”  
  
“Stiles, I’m happier that I’ve ever been and it’s because of you. I’m still...I’m still learning and figuring things out but I’m happy.”

“Okay,” Stiles whispers, pressing a soft kiss to Derek’s lips, “I believe you. Now you just have to believe me.”

 

The next morning Stiles wakes up to several missed calls and texts from the pack, demanding to know what had happened and why no one had been informed. He ignored them all and turned over to face the empty bed he had been left in. Derek had the early shift today which meant he had to leave Stiles to a cold bed and no morning cuddles, which sucked, but also meant that he  _ wasn’t _ working late.

Stiles rolled out of bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He slid his feet into the bunny slippers Scott had gotten him along with an easy bake oven s a gag gift that no one else except Danny understood, having been there for the “no, you stopped to bake it in a little werewolf oven” discussion Sophomore year. Just to spite Scott, he regifted the oven to Victoria and used the slippers regularly. They made Derek grumbled in the mornings which made Stiles love them even more.

After a quick shower and slipping on one of Derek’s old shirts and his own pair of pants, he was out the door. At quarter past nine he was pulling up to the Motel to see Isaac waiting outside, lounging against the wall. He looked well rested and clean and Stiles made a mental note to have the pack bring in any of their unutilized clothes at the sight of the same blue shirt and worn jeans. Stiles was sure there was a uniform stashed in the back somewhere that would do for the day. 

At the sight of the blue jeep, Isaac’s face lit up. He quickly strode to the passenger side and peered in.

“Hey Isaac!”

He allowed a lopsided grin, “Hi Stiles,” his voice was still low and soft but he  _ looked _ happier. Score 1 for Stiles. He lanky teen got in the jeep and strapped himself in before Stiles rolled into the street. They were only a few minutes from the restaurant and he could tell that Isaac was getting a bit nervous.

“Are you ready for your first day?”

Golden curls bounced in a nod.

“Awesome!” Stiles knew it was a lie but it's what he had been expecting. “You’ll be passed around the different parts today, see where you like it best. If that’s alright.”  
  
“O-okay.”

Stiles smiled over at him gently as he pulled into the back parking lot and placed a steady hand atop Isaac’s fidgeting ones.

“Relax. I’ll be there every step of the way.”  
  
At the confirmation he saw Isaac physically relax. He nodded again, this time more to himself than Stiles and let out a deep breath. He put his brave face on, the same one he had first walked into  _ Claudia’s _ with and Stiles knew that he’d be okay.

 

When the two walked in they were bombarded with yells and questions. Isaac looked a bit distressed but did his best to cover it.

“Stilinski!”  
  
“Stiles! What happened?”

“Why didn’t anyone call us?”  
  
“There were police cars everywhere!”

“Who’s that?”  
  
“Where’s Derek? Is Derek okay?”

Stiles waved them all off and ushered Isaac to the backroom, the crowd following close behind them. Once they were all inside Stiles turned abruptly and clapped his hands together.  
  
“Everybody, this is Isaac. Our new hire!”

The enthusiasm didn’t transfer. The pack blinked at Stiles owlishly. What? And Stiles knew what was coming. This was part of their den. They were free to be themselves and growl and show fangs, etc and now a stranger was encroaching on that. Nonetheless a human stranger...with no knowledge of the supernatural...that Stiles knew of. 

Unsurprisingly, Jackson and Liam were the firsts to speak.

“You just told me we couldn’t hire Hayden because we were full staff!”  
  
“Yeah, Stilinski. We run fine by ourselves.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Allison piped up, eyes shifting unsteadily between the wolves and Isaac.

“He smells funny,” Malia whined making Kira elbow her in the ribs and Isaac blush.

Stiles sighed and raised an eyebrow at Cora and Lydia, the only two who hadn’t voiced their opinions.

Cora just shrugged, “I don’t care, as long as he doesn’t take  _ my _ job.” And Lydia followed in suit, “It’s not like we can’t afford it. I’m sure an extra set of hands will let you home earlier than usual.”

Stiles nodded and sighed, deciding to address each one of their concerns in order, hoping to avoid unrest. 

Because hell, as Scott had put it oh so elegantly years ago, he was the Pack Mom. A poor choice, but a choice. And it didn’t help that he was married to their Alpha.

“Liam, we hire Mason over the summer. Isn’t that enough? We’re not going to hire Hayden just because you have a crush on her. Besides, she wanted to be a waitress and she could hardly poor a pitcher of water.” Liam pouted but said no more, “Jacks, we do run fine but I need another person around here to help me out. I haven’t gotten to eat dinner with Derek in an entire month and I would really like to start,” he saw the guilt that shoot through the wolf’s eyes only to be covered by indifference, but knew he had gotten his point across. “And yes, everything will be fine as long as everyone is polite,” he glared at Malia, “and behaves.”

There was a collective eyeroll but finally everyone seemed to be on the same page.

“Great. Isaac you’ll start with Kira. Kira, just show him the ropes of things back there. I’ll come get him after prep.”

The girls smiled hesitantly before ushering Isaac to the bakery, leaving the rest of them to finally question Stiles alone.

“What the fuck is going on?” Liam asked.

“Language,” Allison scolded, whipping a towel at the boy before turning back to the rest of them, “No, seriously Stiles. What the fuck?”  
  
“It’s a long story.”  
  
“We’ve got time,” Jackson urged.

“Just...the kid’s out on the streets and he got himself into a bit of trouble,” he shrugged, “I was able to help.”  
  
“If you’re referring to attempted armed robbery as a bit of trouble, then sure,” Cora snorted.

“What are you talking about?” Lydia snapped the same time Stiles flailed his arms around in attempt to silence her.

“Please. If you think for one second Derek didn’t call Laura in full fledged panic after last night and that she didn’t tell me the moment Derek hung up then have you really been in this family long enough?”

Stiles sighed because she wasn’t wrong. The Hale’s were  _ gossipy _ ...which was why both he and his father fit right in.

“What?” Allison cried, “ _ Here? _ ”

“It was just--” Stiles started when Jackson’s eyes flared blue.

“He tried to  _ rob you _ and you offer him a  _ job _ ?”

“Stiles--”

“Guys, really. He’s a good kid. Just got mixed up in some bad shit.”  
  
“Tell him he needs to leave,” Lydia said calmly, placing a steady hand on Jackson’s arm in attempt to sooth him.

“Lydia--”  
  
“Stiles, I get it. But you’ve invited this stranger into our den after he threatened our Alpha. You can’t be serious.”  
  
“Lydia, come on. The system’s rigged. If I had pressed charges he would have been thrown in jail or unable to get any job ever. That’s doing nothing. He’ll just end up back on the streets, robbing more people and only getting into more trouble. You should know more than anyone. Between your studies and Derek, the system is fucked up. Isaac’s a good kid. You need to give him a chance. We all do stupid things when we hit rock bottom, us more than anyone should know that. Hell we’ve killed people to get out of bad situations before.”

He waited but Lydia only licked her lips and looked away.

“Stiles, it’s very admirable,” Allison began, “but you can’t change an entire flawed system with one person.”

“No. But I can start.”

“He’s not going to change his mind,” Lydia sighed.  
  
“Fine,” Jackson grumbled, well aware of Stiles’ stubborn properties, “but if he tries anything I  _ will _ rip his throat out.”

“Fine,” Stiles agreed easily.  
  
“What did Derek say?” Allison asked.

“He uh...not a fan? But he knows.”  
  
“This is so stupid,” Malia groaned as she exited the break room.

Lydia stood straighter and flattened her skirt, “Whatever Stiles. But he’s getting minimum wage,” and followed Malia out.

“Are you sure?” Allison asked again.

This time Stiles nodded, “Please, just keep an open mind. He’s scared and a victim of abuse and has nowhere to go. He’s willing to put in the work.”

She gave a small smile, “Okay Stiles. As long as he’s not dangerous.”

“He’s not Alli.”  
  
“Okay. I’m going to start setting out the tables. If you need anything let me know.”

Liam followed her out to help.

Jackson just grunted, “Don’t come crying to me when he starts stealing from the cash register,” he turned to Cora, “You seem quiet about all this,” he observed suspiciously.

“I don’t really care. I’m not particularly threatened by him. He’s a human. We’d notice if he was up to anything. Besides,” she smiled, “This is pissing Derek off. And  _ that _ I can get behind.”  
  
Stiles matched her grin with one of his own and brought his fist up to bump into her awaiting one. They ignored Jackson’s pained groan and headed out towards the front of the store together.

 

As Stiles expected, Isaac fit in easily with the rest. He was still a little too shy to wait tables, but the older customers loved him and fawned over his “adorable dimples” and “golden angel curls”. It wasn’t often you saw an unfamiliar face in Beacon Hills, so everyone was intrigued. Stiles could see the excitement was getting to be too much for him so he slyly transitioned him over to Jackson and kept him in the back for the rest of the day. As per usual, Jackson started snapping at Isaac for getting in the way for the first half hour or so until they settled into a rhythm of sorts. Isaac laid down the dishes while Jackson plated. Their lunch hour was especially busy that day and by the end of the few hours together Jackson had deemed Isaac “not that bad” which was a pretty big feat when it came to the blonde. However, Isaac found his own spot with Kira in the bakery. He apparently had a knack for sweets and pairing flavors as well as icing. He and Kira got along perfectly with their shy nature and their undercutting wit. By mid day Stiles figured that Isaac would spend most of his time there and bussing. When he tabled the idea to Isaac he seemed thrilled. When Stiles brought up the idea of serving he could tell Isaac was interested, if not still a little apprehensive. So he promised to revisit the idea in the future. Stiles sent him off to help Kira in the bakery while he took his break. 

A knock at the door drew his attention from his thoughts, “Come in?”

To his surprise a dark head of hair peeked its way inside, “Stiles?”  
  
“Der? What are you doing here?” He asked, standing up to press a kiss to his lips nonetheless.

His cheeks tinted pink before he held up a brown paper bag, “I uh...brought lunch?”

Stiles raised an eyebrow, his hands still clutching the bottom of Derek’s leather jacket, “You do know I work at a restaurant, right?”  
  
“I uh...it’s from downtown. That place you like? As an apology for last night.”

Stiles smiled sweetly and kissed him again.

“Thank you. Eat with me?”  
  
The Alpha nodded and sat with Stiles at the table watching his husband pull item after item out of the bad, loving how his face lit up in excitement over each packaging of food. They sat together, Stiles going well over his allowed break time. They were laughing over something Jackson had done last week when Isaac poked his head in.  
  
“Stiles?” He called excitedly.

“Yeah?”

“Liam asked me if I wanted to drive downtown with him to pick up his friend Mason from school. Would you mind if I went? Since it’s technically during my break? I could--”  
  
“It’s fine,” he smiled, “Go ahead. Don’t worry about it.”  
  
“Thank you!”

It was then that he saw Derek and seemed to freeze all together. Derek...well Derek was not making good on his promise to “try and be nicer” to the boy as he was glaring with his “eyebrows of doom” and pursed lips.

“Go ahead Isaac,” Stiles smiled again.

He stiffly nodded and disappeared out the door in a hurry. Stiles turned his frown to Derek who feigned innocence.

“I can’t believe you. Could you at least try?”

“I am trying. I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re right. It’s a big improvement. You didn’t attack him.”

Derek rolled his eyes, “You can’t just expect me to be okay with this.”

“I’m not. But I am surrounded by pack that would do anything to protect me, okay? If you can’t trust Isaac, trust them.”

He grumbled.

“Can you try? Please? For me.”  
  
Derek stood and pushed in the chair at the table, “For you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What'd you think? I would love to hear any question, comments, concerns or ideas you guys may have. I've been kind of in a funk lately and some feedback would really help. Thanks for reading!! Hopefully I'll see you in Chapter 3!!
> 
> Lots of Love & Lots of Sterek


	3. Familiar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yes...this is back from the depths of hell. It's been hanging over my head for MONTHS. So I'm happy to finally put in another installation.
> 
> I also wrote a fanfic for another fandom (weird) so posting this kind of feels like retribution for my time away from home but...glad to be back (if you like Voltron feel free to check it out, though).
> 
> Anywho...we get 2 new characters who's introduction could mean...MANY things.
> 
> It's kind of short but I'll be literally updating again TOMORROW so...yeah.
> 
> Enjoy!

The next week the room for Isaac was cleared out, thanks to Jackson and Kira, both who had taken a unique liking to Isaac.

Stiles beckoned him up the stairs.

“Where are we going?”

  
“You’ll see. Ah, here we are,” Stiles grinned, “Home sweet home.”

Isaac’s face dropped into shock.

“It’s all yours. There’s like a bed and everything. And there’s a bathroom off to the right. There isn’t a kitchen but feel free to help yourself to down stairs at anytime. I know it’s not much but--”

He was cut off by Isaac pulling him into a warm hug, “It’s perfect.”

They both ignored the unshed tears in one another’s eyes as they worked on setting up what few belongings Isaac had and making the bed. They ordered a pizza on Stiles’ demand. He had claimed that it was a “moving into a new place tradition.” Isaac didn’t mind it. It had been so long since he had...a sheltered place. Years since he had somewhere to call home. Somewhere permanent. He looked over at Stiles, taking him in while the man was sprawled on the floor, back resting on his bed, his attention on the small TV in front of them. He was young. Beautiful even. He had to have been an angel. Or...or something. No one...no one had looked at Isaac as a person since he’d been booted to the streets. He had been beaten and spit on and starved and taken advantage of in all ways. And then...then Stiles came. Dropped into his life by sheer dumb luck. He had planned to rob the hardware store down the street, but it had an alarm system on it like he had never seen before. The Shop had only one low light on and...well, he decided to test that luck. He was glad he did.

Stiles turned his head almost on cue, meeting Isaac’s eyes. They shared a calm look before Stiles went on to tell Isaac more about his new employees. He gushed about Lydia for a while and then Kira, told him Allison and Scott’s story, etc.

“Jackson was a  _ jock _ ?”

Stiles barked out a laugh, “The jockiest. He was a frat bro in college, too. Don’t let him forget that. Maybe slip in a few “bro” jokes next week.”  
  
“I’d like to live, thanks.”

Stiles chuckled, “He mellowed out a lot later on. I think Lydia finally letting him put a ring on that helped. But he was the bully to my nerd in high school.”

“Oh,” Isaac couldn’t help his dejected tone, but Stiles was quick to amend, “It was mostly how our relationship worked. The natural order of all things Beacon Hills. He’s one of my best friends now.”

There was a brief silence as Stiles recounted, making sure he had hit all of them. Isaac swallowed. But he had to know.

His voice was quiet, “And Derek?”

Instead of smiling, as he usually did when his husband was brought up, Stiles sighed and dropped his unfinished piece of pizza back into the box.

“Listen, you’re gonna have to... _ forgive _ Derek.”

“He...Isaac looked down, “He really doesn’t like me. Does he?”

“It’s not that....”  
  
“Stiles. It’s okay. I know he doesn’t.”

“I’m sorry he’s a dick. He...he’s really a sweet guy. The sweetest, actually. It’s why I love him. But...the thing you have to know about him is that...he’s...a survivor. I mean, we all are at the Shop, in our own ways. But he’s...always worn his differently. He doesn’t hate you, Isaac, “Stiles said again, pick up on the lingering apprehension, “He...he lost most of his family in a house fire when he was younger. And...after that...the life he’s lived has made him very...protective. Cora, too. But they’re different. It’s something we’ve been working on. Especially before we have kids. But I can’t...I can’t entirely blame him. Not when you lose everything like that. All at once....after that...whenever someone threatens something that’s yours in anyway...you’re going to protect it,” his mouth upturned in a tick, “You should have seen it when Cora brought a guy home last year. It was a mess. There was yelling.  _ Lots _ of yelling. But they both knew their reasoning. The guy high tailed it out of there in under an hour. It...hasn’t been easy for him. For either of them. It’ll take a while for him to trust you. But it’ll happen. He still has his issues with Jackson sometimes and it took him the longest time for him to trust Scott and he’s been my best friend since we were three. So...it’s not personal. Really. It’ll get there with you two. Organically. And...and slowly. But don’t break your back to impress him. But maybe...learn it? He’s my husband and he’ll be around.”

Isaac nodded, “I mean, I bet my entrance wasn’t the best either.”

At that, Stiles guffawed, “No, no it wasn’t.”

Isaac snorted, bringing him out of the meaningful moment, but he had heard every word Stiles had said.

There was a beat of silence, “Stiles?”  
  
“Yeah, Buddy?”

“My Mom...”

The other man turned to him, “What is it?”

“She would have called you an angel.”

Isaac watched the flinch of discomfort flit across Stiles’ face, but also took note of the blush that accompanied it. This time he was the one to snort.

“Well, I’m sure  _ my _ mother would have had a few things of her own to say about that one.”

 

The Derek thing...didn’t get better. When Stiles would work late with Isaac, he always found an excuse to stop by. And while Stiles was delighted to see his husband, he was by now means stupid and was aware of the underlying meaning of it. Everytime he tried to confront him about it, Derek would deny every word which turned into an argument that nearly always ended in yelling and Stiles stomping off to spend the night with Scott and Allison. After the fourth or fifth time it happened it was Isaac who up and left.

It wasn’t hard to see what they were fighting about and he...well that last thing he wanted to do was cause trouble for Stiles. He...he had taken enough. Enough to get back on his feet and feed himself for a while until he could maybe find another job. He’d go to the bank tomorrow, take everything out of the account Lydia had helped him set up and go. If that was what it took to keep the fighting from happening then so be it. Stiles...Stiles loved Derek. So much. And he didn’t want to be the reason he gave that away...for him. A nobody who’d amount to nothing. He couldn’t take it.

It was Cora that found him. Pathetically sitting in the rain under a ridge in an alleyway.

“Are you serious?” She screeched, “Maybe Derek  _ was _ right about you!:

He flinched at here words, but was otherwise immobilized by her glare and biting accusations.

“Stiles has done  _ everything _ for you. He’s given up his space and time and money. He sticks up for you to his customers and his father. To his  _ husband _ . And  _ this  _ is how you repay him?”

Panic surged through him, because  _ no _ , “I...I didn’t...”   
“You didn’t what? Think? Well maybe you should start,” she growled reaching down and pulling him to his feet by his forearm, “This is your last chance. Trust me. Don’t throw away everything we’ve given up for you because you got scared. Grow a fucking pair Lahey!”

She slammed the door of the car in his face as she walked around to the driver’s side. They didn’t speak and Cora drove him right to Stiles’ house. He didn’t have an air of protest when she shoved him ahead of her in the doorway.

He was met with Derek cradling a red eyed Stiles, speaking to him in a low calm voice, one Isaac assumed was particularly reserved for his husband as he had never heard it. Guilt grasped at his heart when Derek caught sight of him and stiffened. Stiles, however, shot off the couch like a bullet and wrapped him in a hug, a mush of apologies tumbling from his mouth and Isaac countering every single one, tears too, in his eyes.

Isaac was eventually wisped into orders to take a hot shower and come down when he was ready. He took his time. Showered until his eyes were raw and the water ran cold. He opened the bathroom door to Derek, standing there, tall and broad with a straight face laced with anger.

“I’m sorry,” he gruffed out, “I didn’t mean for you to leave.”

Isaac’s only response was a nod before he hurried past the man and down the stairs, very aware that his blood was pounding and his eyes were wide as saucers.

So it was a bit of a surprise when he was invited to sleep on the couch that night after being given a hot cup of tea and a warm meal.

 

It was a month later when Erica and Boyd found him.

“Isaac,” Erica had whispered from the alley.

“Erica?”

She had jumped into his arms and kissed him sloppily on the cheek, “Oh, it’s so good to see you. We thought...well, you know.”

He nodded. He did know. When you didn’t see a familiar face on the streets for a while it most likely meant he worst. Especially for kids. Boyd nodded and clasped him on the back. The three of them had spent their share of time together on the streets. And it was good to see friendly faces.

“Got yourself a job?”

Erica’s eyes widened, “Oh my God. Really?”

He couldn’t help the prideful blush, “Yeah. Maybe...maybe I can see...”  
  
Boyd cut him off, “We can’t ask you to do that. You know how it is with us. We’re happy you got out.”

“Yeah,” Erica smiled, “You clean up nice too, Lahey.”

He couldn’t fight his blush, “Thanks. Will you guys be around for a while?”  
  
Boyd nodded, “Until winter ends.”

“If you come back here around close I can sneak some food out for you.”

They agreed readily and...and it broke Isaac’s heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What'd you guys think?
> 
> Is Derek being too much of a dick? Should he give him already? Or did Stiles kind of justify his behavior?
> 
> Anything else? Would love to hear all your guys' opinions and constructive criticism that I actually love so much as well as all of your comments about my absence which I love...less than much but do appreciate anyway.
> 
> Thanks for coming back for me.
> 
> Lots of Love & Lots of Sterek x


	4. Walking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I say tomorrow? 
> 
> Hm...well Happy Midterms.

It was around that time Isaac began ducking out of the shop at night, taking just a little too long on his breaks and sometimes showing up a bit late for shifts as well.

“Where have you been sneaking off to?” 

Isaac jumped when the light switched on in the kitchen and Lydia and Jackson stepped forward.  
  
“What?”

“At night. You keep sneaking out. Like no one would notice. Where are you going?” Lydia pressed.

“No where!” He cried, suddenly feeling the need to protect himself, “Just...just for a walk!”

Lydia squinted her eyes and looked to Jackson who shook his head as if that meant anything. But apparently to Lydia, it did.

“You’re lying.”  
  
“A-am not. What does it matter?”

“It better not be drugs,” Jackson snarled, “If after everything, we let a junkie into  _ Claudia’s _ \--”  
  
“I’m not on  _ drugs _ !”

“Then where are you going?”  
  
“I told you! For a walk! It’s none of your business where I go! I work here, that’s it! When I’m off the clock where I go doesn’t concern you.”

Lydia looked slightly taken aback at his raised voice and Jackson had moved as if he were about to pounce, but he couldn’t care less. Before either of them could speak Isaac was shoving past them, mumbling something about getting to bed and a heavyweight in his chest.

 

The next day he was washing dishes when Allison’s heavy gaze caught his attention.

“Wanna tell be about the walks?”

“Does  _ everyone  _ know about that?”

She shrugged, “Everyone but Stiles.”

“Why...why not Stiles?”

Allison gave him a smile as she dried her hands on the gray washcloth on her apron, “We don’t want to alarm him.”

“He’s not a child,” he couldn’t help but mutter much to his own surprise.

“No. But he’s our friend. Who has a big heart. That people often like to take advantage of. Stiles is family. I would do  _ anything  _ to keep my family from hurting. Everyone here? They would tear the universe apart to keep one another safe.”  
  
“I would never hurt Stiles. Or...or anyone here.”  
  
“Not intentionally.”  
  
“I’d never lay a hand on anyone!”

“You did try to rob the bakery with a gun,” Isaac bit his lip in reply, “But that’s not what I’m saying,” she continued, “I’m not necessarily talking about physical harm. You try any of that and I’m not sure I can guarantee they’d fine the body,” her voice remained sweet as usual but something ran cold in Isaac, nonetheless, “Why do you think Derek has it out for you? Don’t be under the illusion that he’s physically threatened by you. Or that he doesn’t think Jackson or Cora or Liam or anyone wouldn’t protect Stiles. He’s more so worried that you’ll hurt Stiles in a different way.”  
  
“You mean emotionally?”  
  
“I do. Like I said, when people see a good person, they take advantage of that. Stiles is a good person. Better than the rest of us. He likes you, a lot. He has faith in you. Already talking about you maybe going back to school one day and getting a job you actually enjoy. What we’re worried about...is you disappointing him. Disappointing us. You don’t have to go to school or do anything other than work here honestly. And that’d be enough. You know if anything was happening with you Stiles would try to help you. So either let him do that...or leave now. There are no secrets here. They’ll be found out eventually. And well if you do disappoint him...well, we’ll let Derek decide what to do with the situation.”

She smiled and Isaac shivered.

“I’m not...I’m not doing anything bad.”

“Then why hide it?”

He sighed. He had been bringing food to Boyd and Erica. It was...he was sure they wouldn’t mind. But the idea still made him feel... _ dirty _ . As if he was tainted. Still in touch with the homeless world. Still “one of them.” The last thing he needed was people holding that over him when he was finally starting to...dare he say it...feel at home?

“It’s...personal?”

She nodded once.

“I’m going to warn you. Thinks don’t stay private long here. I’m not threatening you--”  
  
“Unlike beforehand?”  
  
She laughed but agreed, “Unlike before hand. But I just don’t want you to be startled when it surfaces.”

He looked down at his hands. It was inevitable then, he thought as he copied her, and nodded once.

 

It was snowing. A cold evening in December. He had made two plates of food the night before and stashed them in the fridge, vowing to bring them to Erica and Boyd’s Sunday spot in the alley way a few buildings down from  _ Claudia’s _ . He didn’t see them straight away, so he peered into the grey shadows with his bag when a voice startled him.

“So this is where you’ve been getting off to.”

He jumped, hand going to his heart, his footing nearly giving out beneath him. He turned to see Stiles there, dressed in jeans and his black coat that made him look taller and more slender in its embrace. He gave Isaac a lopsided smile, one that had it’s usual boyish charm, but held an edge of uncertainty to it as well. It left Isaac feeling uneasy.

“The others told you?” He sounded putoff, even to his own ears as he looked down at his feet.

Stiles approached carefully.

“No...I noticed you going off by yourself a lot more. Swung by to see if you needed anything from the store but you were going out,” he held up his keys as proof, but his eyes flickered to the brown paper bag he was holding. Isaac felt himself flinch, “What’s in the bag, Isaac?” 

Stiles’ tone was heavy with anticipation. He managed to sound curious and upbeat all while keeping an underlying tone of regret and the same disappointment Allison hard warned him against bringing.

“F-food.”  
  
“Food? Are,” his eyebrows furrowed, “Are we not feeding you enough?”  
  
And...God Bless his soul, “That’s not it.”  
  
“Then...”  
  
“Isaac!” 

They both turned at the voice. Erica came running down the alley way, Boyd’s hand in hers. Both stopped in their tracks when they saw Stiles.

“Who’s this?”

“This,” Isaac swallowed. His eyes met Stiles’ who was looking at him patiently, “is my boss.”

“Stiles Stilinski,” he greeted, holding out his hand towards Erica.

Isaac didn’t miss the last name slip in, as he would be known as Stiles  _ Hale _ but he supposed Stiles thought there was still some illegal activity going on in all this, as he felt the need to invoke the last name of the Town Sheriff.

“Erica. This is Boyd,” she responded without reaching out, “Isaac...he’s not doing anything bad. He’s just helping us. I promise. If he’s stealing the food we can stop. We’re sorry.”  
  
“Food?”  
  
“I’m not, I promise!”  
  
Stiles held up a hand as if to halt everything, “Isaac, what food?”

He held up the paper bag, “I...I know them from before. I thought...since I could that I would bring them food. I’m sorry! I...please don’t fire me. I’m not stealing I promise.”  
  
Stiles’ hand was heavy on his shoulder, “Isaac, calm down. I know you’re not stealing. Relax. I’m not mad. We’re not using that leftover food, it’s no harm that you’re giving it to people. That’s amazingly kind of you, Isaac.”

“I...it is?”  
  
Stiles snorted, “Of course it is.”

“Now, why don’t we all go back to the shop. I’ll turn the heat on and make you guys something fresh.”

Boyd’s eyes cut to Isaacs as if to ask if this was for real. He only grabbed Erica’s hand and followed after Stiles.

 

“My Mom kicked me out. She didn’t like I was dating a black man. Racism exists even throughout minorities. I haven’t spoken to her or my siblings since. They didn’t care what happened to me. That was answer enough. I have my family right here,” Erica finished as she reached across the table to squeeze Boyd’s hand.

Stiles gave a watery smile.

“And I...never had a family. I had a sister. We grew up in the system together. I met Erica while I was still in school. We ran away when we were given to an abusive Foster Family. The same time Erica told her parents about us. My Sister...Alicia...she passed away that winter. It was...she was only 9. It was too cold.”

“I...I’m sorry,” Stiles choked out.

“There’s nothing you could have done about it.”

“Still...Issac, help me in the kitchen for a minute?”

He wordlessly followed.

“How old are they?” His voice was raw.

“Sixteen? Seventeen, maybe?”

“I..I could never imagine.”

“No one ever could, really.”

“You...you said they’re good kids?”

Isaac nods.  
  
“Boyd’s quiet. But he’s kind.”  
  
“He reminds me of Derek,” Stiles whispered.

“Yeah...me too. He...he’d do anything for Erica. And...me I suppose. Erica...she’s a bit of a wildcard. But she...her heart is always in the right place. She picked up on Boyd’s loneliness. Brought him along for the ride. She was the one who found me first. Took me with them when they moved. They never left me behind. Never even thought about it.”  
  
Stiles wiped at his eyes, “I...I...we could clear out another room. They could help around the restaurant?”

“Stiles...”  
  
“They’re kids. I can’t just let them...you promise they’re honest, Isaac? They’re not going to rob me blind?”

“No. I...they’d never.”

He nodded, “Okay. Go talk to them.”

Isaac wrapped Stiles in a hug and before departing he called over his shoulder, “Derek’s going to kill you.”

 

“No.”

“Der-”  
  
“Absolutely not, Stiles! Are you trying to get yourself killed? What the fuck are you thinking?”

“I’m  _ thinking _ that there are homeless, freezing and starving  _ children _ on the street and I can do something about it!”  
  
“There are homeless children everywhere all the time, Stiles!”  
  
“So what does that mean we just ignore it? Send them out the door into the snow and say sorry there are a ton of you out there!”  
  
“I’m not saying that! Goddamnit! You keep bringing people into our life that I’ve finally made safe for us and it’s...it’s not safe anymore. I don’t know who these people are or what their motives are and you’re alone with them. All the time!”  
  
“They’re  _ kids _ !”  
  
“Stiles you’ve been apart of this life so long that you should know that to them it doesn’t matter. Gerard or Deucalion would not hesitate to bait you with poor children in the snow to hurt you and bring us down!”

“Derek! Listen to yourself!”  
  
“You’re too nice. And I love that about you. But...you’re not thinking. About the rest of us. About what it could mean if it is all a trap.”

“Derek. I looked at these kids. They told me their stories. They’re not working for anyone! I don’t know why you have such trouble trusting me. I thought you did. If you can’t listen to me on this then I don’t even know why we’re married!”  
  
Derek stiffened, “You don’t mean that.”

The other huffed and crossed his arms, also lowering his voice, “I do. I would never put the pack in danger. I would never. If I thought something was wrong I’d have them out the door in ten seconds flat. And it’s happened before. It...there’s something wrong when you can’t trust my judgement. You promised we’d be equals. I can’t...I can’t go much further knowing that you don’t trust me with something this small because it means that we’re skewered.”  
  
“Stiles,” he took quick steps over to him, wrapping his fingers around his husband’s upper arms, “No, no, no, no, no. Stop it. I’m sorry. I...fuck. No. I...I love you. And I trust you. I do. More than anyone. More than myself. I just...sometimes...when I think about losing you? I go crazy. If anything happened to you, Stiles...”

A pale hand came up to cup his face, “I know.”

“You make it so hard sometimes. I need you so much that it scares me. Sometimes I can’t even breathe.”

“I tend to have that effect on people,” a deep chuckled rose from Derek’s chest as he rested his forehead on Stiles’ shoulder, “Derek, every decision I make, I think of you. Of us and the pack,” he ran a hand through dark hair, “You need to start trusting me if this is going to work. These kids...they’re just that. Young and scared and alone with nowhere else to go. Their families abandon them, they lost people...it...it breaks my heart.”

Derek rose his head to come eye level to Stiles. Green took in gold for a silent minute before letting out a breath.

“Can you handle it?”

“Yeah.”

Stiles’s face broke into a smile, one that Derek was never quite good at replicating when he saw it.

“Besides,” Stiles whispered, trailing a hand up his husband’s chest, “I have a big...bad...Alpha...to keep me safe.”

Derek met his lips in the middle, tongue coaxing a moan from the younger man as he led him to the bed.

“Yes,” he growled, “you do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drama~
> 
> I really hope you guys are liking it. I know the characters are like SUPER OOC and I'm usually more disciplined than this but honestly I've been super depressed and haven't been able to write anything decent in a while so even me updating this is a feat in its own.
> 
> Anyways, I'm looking forward to your constructive criticism and thoughts as always. But really, comments make me super happy =)
> 
> Hope to see you for Chapter 5 (Only a few more chapters in this!!)


	5. Happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is....weird. I'm not too sure what happened. If it's like too all over the place and just OUT of place please let me know and I'll rewrite it. But I decided to take a gamble and see what you guys thought of it anyway.
> 
> Also, I was thinking about holding this until Christmas got a little closer but you guys have waited long enough so...looks like I'll probably be writing some Christmas fluff this year to make up for it.
> 
> Thanks for coming back as always (or like if you're just joining, hey what's up? welcome to this wreck!)  
> See you soon 
> 
> Lots of Love & Lots of Sterek  
> xoxo

“Christmas, Christmas,” Stiles hummed as he helped Kira prep the bakery for the day.

Jackson sat on the counter behind them, arms crossed over his chest with a bored expression on his face.

“It’s the middle of November,” he protested.

“Hey,” Stiles turned, pointing a spoon coated with runny chocolate at him, “You guys made me wait until after Thanksgiving to start with the Christmas stuff and I did. Now, no one can get in my way. It’s full throttle.”

Jackson groaned. Stiles had a  _ thing _ for Christmas. Everyone got presents and cookies and cheer forced upon them whether they wanted it or not. This year, the torch was passed on to Stiles and Derek from the Sheriff and Melissa, so Stiles was extra hype this year. He had, apparently, planned a Whoville Worthy Christmas for them and had been polishing the details since September. 

Jackson sighed, watching on as his friend rambled on about something to Kira. Leave it to Stiles to put his whole heart and soul into everything. It was one of the best things about the guy. And it was one of the things that had attracted Derek in the first place, or so the Alpha claimed stupor one night, his passion and his bright eyes. 

Jackson’s gaze floated out towards the dining area. Allison was sitting across a booth from Erica, smiling and talking as they wrapped silverware. She wore almost a reluctant look on her face as the brunette spoke, but she was nodding along nonetheless. Boyd and Isaac were prepping tables and moving the chairs around to accommodate the large breakfast party that had made reservations for the moment they opened at 8. Again...leave it to Stiles. Picking up strays. 

But he had no room to talk. They all kind of were in their own way...strays, anyway. Jackson had been the ‘it guy,’ sure. Always surrounded by people. Even in college. But he always had a deep loneliness that clung to him and Stiles seemed to pick up on it immediately. Scott had been alone on the sandbox. Kira was the quiet kid people ignored. Derek was...well Derek, of course. Allison was the new girl and it went on and on until Isaac and Erica and Boyd.

It had been about a month since Boyd and Erica’s “welcoming.” It was less of an issue than Isaac’s appearance. They had already been hiding their wolves from the unsuspecting human, so what were two more employees that didn’t know? Lydia had moved things around and with the holiday rush that usually came in, they could afford to pay them at least until February. She had been annoyed running the numbers at their apartment, Jackson remembers. But he could tell she thought it was worth it when her smile matched Stiles’ beaming one when she told her the news. Lydia was a genius. And that has yet to be disputed. 

The new kids were...fine. Derek seemed to take to Boyd a little easier than to Isaac. Probably due to the fact that he hadn’t held a gun to his husband’s head, but hey...what did he know? But Boyd was cool. He was big and quiet and _smart_. Lydia honed in on that right away and had raided their shelf for any books she thought might pique his interest. He had given her a shy smile and ‘thank you’ and ran upstairs right away to put them in a safe spot. Erica was....fiery. Jackson liked her. And Lydia did too (if taking her clothes shopping her second day there was any testament to that). She wasn’t too sweet like Allison or Kira or too harsh like Cora or Malia. But she had a sort of middle ground to her that suggested that she had gone through a lot. Her presence demanded a soft respect but she was just as shameless as Stiles at times. The two took to each other like ducks to water. A partners in crime type of thing. Sometimes she’d be brass and witty, others, though, she’d be more quiet and reserved. But that was true for all of them, Boyd and Isaac, too. Boyd was...mostly always quiet, but some days he was more...present than others. And while Isaac had carved a small home for himself in their group already there were some days his eyes were hardened with anger or red with tears. Jackson couldn’t even begin to imagine the hardships the kids had even begun to face out there and Stiles had warned them never to ask them. But sometimes, when one of them would get that far off look in their eye or disappear a bit longer than their allotted break time...Jackson was desperate to know.

“Stiles,” Kira whined, “you’re getting chocolate everywhere.”

The boy laughed loud and clear and angled his spoon so he’d intentionally splash her.

“Stiles!”

“You’re cleaning that up, Stilinski,” Jackson chimed in, “if it’s the last thing you do.”

“Um, I cook, you clean?”  
  
“I don’t think so. If you think--”

Before he could finish his sentence a maraschino cherry plopped him right on the forehead.

“Stiles!” Kira hissed in warning, as if Jackson wasn’t still right there.

“You’re dead!”  
  
He reached for the container of flour next to him and threw it at Stiles. The powder covered the ground and both of the bakers’ hair.

Kira’s eyes flashed before she reached for the mixture Stiles had been working on. With her fox powers, she aimed perfectly at Jackson, the chocolate splashing all over his shirt.

“These were new shoes,” she huffed.

Stiles was laughing soundlessly beside her. She grabbed her own mix and poured it on him as well.

“Wha--”

Now it was Jackson who was laughing at Stiles’ shocked expression.

“You started it.”

“No way! Jackson did!”  
  
“Me? What did I do?”

“You threatened me!”

“No I didn’t!”  
  
“Yes you did!”

Stiles’ eyes flickered to the cupcake mix on the table. Jackson followed his stare.

“Don’t do it.”

Golden eyes narrowed in challenge before both of them took off towards it. They topped over each other, pushing the table into the wall and knocking down a row of metal bowls and pans. The loud crash of materials was loud enough to draw everyone’s attention and have them come running in to assess any damages. Stiles and Jackson were still squabbling on the floor like...

“Children.”

The voice made them freeze and look up. Lydia stood in the wide doorway, arms crossed with the rest of them standing behind her. Most of them looked amused and bored with the situation, Cora taking out her phone to snap a few pictures, to send to her brother presumably, the other three looked slightly horrified and Liam hid his smirk behind his hand while Lydia tapped her foot.

“ _ I _ am not cleaning this,” she snapped.

Jackson heard the edge in her voice and started to sober, but Stiles kept right on laughing. And even though he had been with Lydia for years, sometimes he was at a loss as to how to handle her attitude. But he was man enough to admit that 9 times out of 10...Stiles knew. He suspected that was what set off their friendship, in addition to his waning crush on Lydia. He found himself texting him or calling him, asking questions about what to get her or how to apologize. It took him a while of self doubt and thinking that maybe she and Stiles really did belong together to realize that it was just a best friend thing really and that Allison did it to Stiles too and Lydia and Derek did it to...well not Scott, as they still had their....differences, but the Sheriff. It had been a long road but he was finally at a place where he felt comfortable. That he trusted his pack and would willing put all his weight on to them if he offered. Which was what he was doing now...because Lydia looked like she was about to rip their heads off but Stiles kept right on smiling. _Laughing_ in the face of danger. How typical.

“Relax, Lyds,” he stood, dusting off some of the flour from his pants...like that did much to help, “We’re gonna clean it. Right Jackson?”  
  
He sighed but grunted an affirmative.

“Good. Because as you know, we have a large reservation coming in under thirty minutes. So this kitchen better be spotless.”  
  
“Yes Sir,” Stiles saluted.

There was a tense silence but then Lydia’s mouth twitched, “You three look ridiculous.”

She slid her phone from her pocket and took four or five consecutive photos of them, arms wrapped around shoulders and waists, smiling like the idiots they were.

And yeah, Jackson was glad he was here.

 

“So,” Stiles stepped into the break room, “Do you guys have any plans for Christmas?”  
  
Erica and Boyd looked up from their game of card while Isaac just snorted as he laid his hand down.

“Okay, so a question in poor taste, I get it.”

Erica laughed brightly, “A bit,” she agreed.

“Well, Derek and I are hosting Christmas Eve this year. Finally. So there’s that. And we don’t really do a huge Christmas Day, but you guys are welcome to stay the night.”  
  
“We couldn’t,” Isaac started.

Boyd and Erica nodded along.

“What do you mean?”

“Christmas is for family, Stiles.”

He furrowed his eyebrow, “You guys are family.”

The delivery was confused and earnest and made something in Isaac’s chest twist. Erica made a small sound in the back of her throat and Boyd immediately reached for her hand across the table. Stiles looked to Isaac in question, but the boy just smiled and shook his head. He jumped when he felt a slug to his shoulder but before he could question it, he had an armful of blonde who was clutching at him like a lifeline.

“You’re so ridiculous,” she sniffled, “I hate you so much. God, Stilinski. What the fuck.”

He hugged her back, a chuckle coming from his chest, deep and relieved.

“I love you, too.”

 

Derek and Stiles walked out of the cold air into the brightly lit and heated Target.

“I just need to grab a few more decorations and then a couple more gifts.”

“For who?”  
  
Stiles turned his head a bit to gage his husband’s reaction, “Erica, Isaac and Boyd. I invited them.”

There was a falter in his step and Stiles was sure that if he was a wolf he would have heard the stutter in his heartbeat as well. The silence stretched for a few more paces until he shrugged.

“Okay.”

Stiles turned his head a little more. His eyes squinted in confusion as he rapidly attempted to piece together the enigmatic man’s vague response before he lost focus.

“You like them,” he finally settled on, a grin breaking his thoughtful expression.

“Boyd’s okay.”

“Oh my God. You love him,” Stiles reached for his hand, “Don’t leave me for him, baby. I need you more.”

Derek huffed and twined his fingers through the human’s, “I know,” he played along.

“I think it hurts Isaac’s feelings. You obviously favor Boyd. And you like Erica. I know you do.”  
  
Again a shrug, “She reminds me of you. How could I not?”  
  
“And Isaac?” he tried.  
  
“I’m getting...used to the idea of him.”  
  
“Good! I know...I know it’s hard. And I know you’ve been trying. A lot. I appreciate that, Der.”

“I know.”

Stiles smiled again, looking up at olive skin and green eyes as Derek pulled something off the shelf to inspect it, all the while still gripping Stiles’ long fingers. This man....he shook his head.  
  
“I love you.”

Green eyes found Gold and they were smiling, “I love you, too.”

 

Christmas music floated through  _ Claudia’s _ . 

It was December twentieth. Isaac was helping Kira decorate dozens of Christmas Cookies made to order. He smiled. This person had ordered four dozen mistletoe cookies and...well they, of course, were one of the toughest to make. But they always turned out tasting so good. It was something about the secret ingredient that Stiles swore up and down wasn’t just added nutmeg and some ginger.  
  
From where he stood he could see Stiles at the bakery counter talking with Derek who was visiting off his shift (and Isaac couldn’t even deny that Derek Hale absolutely fucking _rocked_ a uniform). They were smiling and laughing and completely in their own little world. Allison was humming along to the music as she and Malia were mixing together a cake recipe that was apparently seasonal. It was a Sunday. So the restaurant portion was closed, and there was very little customers. But Stiles had called all hands on deck (if available) in the bakery today. Isaac didn’t mind it, though. Boyd and Erica had gone out with Lydia and Jackson to run some last minute errands and Liam had practice, but everyone else was there, or at least had been for a while.  
  
With the cold outside and the snow flurrying around, the warmth of the hot chocolate in his chest that Cora had shoved in his hands a while ago, the scent of bakced goods....with the smiles on everyone’s faces as they awaited the “big day,” the atmosphere...the love...the acceptance Isaac had never once felt in his life except for now...he was happy. He had been waiting so long to...to feel this _thing_ that he had only ever heard people talk about in movies or books. A sense of belonging. Of just...being right. Being correct and allowed and wanted and _loved_. He was so so so happy, he couldn’t stand it.   
  
He choked on a sob, surprising himself. Stepping away from the cookies he wiped his eyes with his sleeve. He was in such a state of...disbelief, that he hadn’t noticed Malia approaching him.

“Why are you crying? Did you burn yourself?”  
  
He shook his head through the tears.  
  
“Then why? What happened?”

“Happy.”

She bent down and squinted at him, “Humans don’t do that. They cry when they’re sad. That doesn’t make sense.”

He shook his head, unable to explain it himself. But then he was being turned around and taken into Kira’s soft arms. That made him cry even more. She shushed him softly and ran her fingers through his hair.

“It’s alright,” she reassured, “We’re happy you’re here. We’re happy you’re here with us, Isaac. We’re happy you’re here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? Would love to hear from you guys. Thoughts? Ideas? Criticism?
> 
> You all left such sweet sweet comments on my last chapter so thank you all very much for taking the time. They warm my heart!
> 
> This should be updated next week sometime so I can move on to my other open fic over Thanksgiving Break without constantly feeling guilty, lol.
> 
> ALSO QUESTION: Are you guys more likely to read a fic that has a constant update schedule? Like every Wednesday or something like that? Or like as long as the fic is being updated in a timely manner? I don't read a lot of WIPs so I'm just wondering reader preferences and how you guys like things~~
> 
> Anywho, I hope this wasn't a wasted read and you guys like it at least a little bit so far.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and I hope to see you guys soon.
> 
> midnight x


	6. Moments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you say "got carried away?" Because Jesus H. Christ. Sha girl got CARRIED AWAY to somewhere FAR. Like yikes. 5k words? This FIC was only supposed to be 5k words, smh. I just love a good Christmas Fluff Fic is all (Saying that, I know there are a lot of typos and screwed up wordings in every chapter, so I will be going back and rewriting, but i just wanted to get this out there for those who have been waiting for literally MONTHS).
> 
> Anyway, so yeah. This is basically just self indulgent fluff that kind of focused more on Stiles and Derek than Isaac. But it IS a Sterek fic....so please forgive me. And it's split into different "moments" hence the title of the chapter, so if it's difficult to follow please let me know so I can fix it!!
> 
> And we get some Hale family bonding. Which was actually kind of difficult to write (so let me know what you guys think?)
> 
> Also, your comments have been so kind and thoughtful and have honestly made this tough time SO SO much easier so thank you all very much. I hope you enjoy this chapter from the bottom of my heart.
> 
> Hope to see you in the comments.
> 
> Lots of Love & Lots of Sterek

Derek’s stirred awake at the feel of hands on his chest.

“Stiles,” he sighed. 

Soft lips pressed to his temple, “Merry Christmas Eve.”

With his eyes still closed, Derek brought his hand up to cover the one of Stiles’ that was lazily playing with his chest hair. He buried his nose into Stiles’ disheveled hair, it still smelt like sweat and semen from the night before, but underneath was the undeniable scent of  _ Stiles  _ that he was looking for. He breathed in.

“Merry Christmas Eve.”

They lay there quietly for a while, Stiles’ head on Derek’s shoulder, their hands together, happy and content.

“What time is it,” Derek eventually asked, voice rough from the night.

“Seven.”

“Why are you awake?”

Stiles shrugged, “I missed you.”

Derek’s chest bloomed with warmth. He didn’t even bother hiding his shameless smile or blush. Because he and Stiles weren’t necessarily the conventional couple, lovey dovey and careful touches and PDA. They were rather...bad at feelings. It had taken them years to get together and months after that to finally admit that they were together. They had obviously gotten better during their time together. But they were still tight lipped about their feelings, opting to rather show each other how they felt opposed to tell each other. And despite the criticism it got so often by their pack members, it worked for them. But once in awhile one of them would say something....something like  _ that _ that would make the other choke in surprise at the reminder at how loved they were. And well...now that Derek thought about it...maybe they  _ should _ speak more. 

He tsked and turned them so he was above Stiles then, resting on his elbows and knees, straddling the younger man’s waist. They both froze, the only sound was the resting of the wrestled sheets and their heavy, anticipating breathing. Stiles lay placid underneath him, both hands up by his head from where he had thrown them in shock from the movement. He watched his husband expressionlessly as Derek’s green eyes flitted over his face, taking in each curve of his features, every mole, every discoloration, every perfect flaw. 

Without warning he leaned in for a kiss. It started off slow and sweet, Stiles bringing his fingers up to thread through Derek’s dark hair as he kissed back with a heavy moan. Derek’s rough hands found themselves cradling the human’s face before slipping underneath his shoulders to pull him closer. In answer, Stiles’ fingers tightened, pulling a bit, causing Derek to growl into his soft mouth.

“Not,” Stiles gasped as Derek bit down his neck, “Not to ruin the mood, but my Dad’s gonna be here for breakfast soon.”

He pulled himself up and nibbled on Stiles’ lobe, “Shall we continue in the shower?”

“Yep,” he squeaked, voice high in excitement, “Yep. C-come on. Go,” he demanded, shoving at Derek’s broad back.

They stumbled out of the bed, a tangle of limbs, smiling and laughing as they went.

  
  


The shower took an entire extra hour due to some.... _ extra curricular  _ activities. Once they were dry and downstairs, both dressed in their nice jeans and warm sweaters, Stiles made a beeline for the coffee machine. Derek watched him silently move around the kitchen, grabbing their prefered mugs and coffee grounds. His heart swelled at the familiar sight, as he still had a tough time believing that this was all  _ his _ . 

He couldn’t help himself but to reach out and cup the human’s face in his hand. He thumbed a drop of water that still clung to the boy’s eyelash and smiled. He pressed a kiss to his husband’s lip and pulled back just enough to see the features of his face before smiling again and dropped his hand to rest on his collarbone. Stiles stared back at him for a moment, neither of them wanting to break the electric tension between them. It was a knock on the door that dispelled it, anyways.

“Must be your boss,” Stiles sighed, as he thumbed at Derek’s cheek.

“Must be your  _ Dad _ ,” Derek corrected, wrapping his fingers around Stiles’ hips to pull him in closer.

They both moved in for a lingering kiss, Stiles’ arms immediately finding their way to their favorite position, looped around Derek’s neck.

“I love you,” the wolf murmured.

“I love you. Let’s make this the best Christmas, yet.”

Derek’s grip on him tightened in agreement before he let go.

“Alright,” Stiles clapped, “Hale Family Christmas Eve. Commence in 5...4...3...2...1.”  
  
  
  


By noon the house was filled with low warming Holiday music and the smell of ready cookies and prepped food. The snow kept outside with a blue tint that the bright lights inside battled against fiercely. Laura had just walked in with both Addie and Tori, arms full of presents and a little smile on her face.

“Der Bear!” She cried when she had finally hung her coat and slid the gifts under the undecorated tree.

She gave him the tightest squeeze she could manage before he was laughing and squeezing her back. Isaac--who had come early upon Stiles’ request--looked on in complete shock. Not that Derek wasn’t... _ friendly _ but he was still having a tough time picturing him in the midst of all this Christmas Cheer, even  _ with  _ Stiles at his side. She hurried over to Stiles next giving him a kiss on the cheek and a small hug as well and then to John and Melissa who sat at the table happily cutting and peeling vegetables. She was the feminine version of Derek, with dark flowy hair and sharp green eyes. She held an aura around her that made you sit up a little straighter in her presence and an unexplained softness to her. Their only difference seemed to be in their demeanor, as Laura seemed better fit to Stiles’ company than Derek’s. Isaac was still studying the two siblings when he felt a little hand tap his hip.

“Who are you?”

Two pairs of big brown eyes stared up at him. He swallowed. He was good with kids. On the occasions he stayed in a shelter, he’d often find himself helping out with the children, reading or doing arts and crafts with them. It was just...who’s kids they were that made him a bit hesitant.

“My name’s Isaac. Who are you?”

“My name’s Addie.”  
  
“I’m Victoria.”  
  
“You can call her Tori, though.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Their voices seemed to call everyone’s attention to them, especially Derek’s.

Laura’s eyes flickered between her brother and Isaac before making her way towards him.

“I’m Laura,” she smiled--it looked strange, Derek’s smiled aimed at him, since it was nearly identical in nature. He had only ever seen it turned at others.

Isaac took her hand, “I’m Isaac.”

“I heard,” Suddenly he felt cold, “Would you mind helping the girls decorate the tree? This year they requested popcorn strings and Uncle Stiles decided to spoil them.”  
  
“Anything for my girls,” he confirmed as he walked over to them, a tray of steaming mugs in his hand.

“Yeah,” he agreed readily, “sure.”

“I’m not sure I have the Mom Energy to keep them completely entertained,” she explained as she plopped down on the couch, reaching up and taking a mug from Stiles.

Isaac let out a chuckle and took one as well, thanking Stiles with a grin. He set another two on the coffee table and cautioned the girls who were nearly climbing at him that it was hot.

“We know Uncle Stiles,” Tori groaned.

“Good because if you burn your tongue and can’t taste the chocolate cake Aunt Kira made then I don’t want to hear any complaining.”

“Aunt Kira made chocolate cake?” Addie asked, eyes wide.

Stiles shrugged in response.

“Come on, tell us.”

“Tell us! Tell us!”

“Fine,” he leaned down and whispered something in their ears. 

Apparently the Hales had superior hearing or something because both of them let out twin snorts on either side of the room at the secret Stiles shared.

“Now, go help Isaac decorate the tree. He needs a lot of help. He told me.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yeah. He’s a complete newbie. Aren’t you Isaac?”

He caught the wink as Stiles disappeared back into the kitchen where John and Melissa still were, although it wasn’t really too hard to play along. The last time he had decorated a Christmas tree had been....well when his Mom was alive.

“Absolutely. Do we eat the popcorn before or after we put it on the tree?”

The girls exchanged looked and giggled behind their hands before Addie took his wrist and sat him down to explain popcorn strings. He got caught up in their explanation, asking ridiculous questions just to get them to laugh and then they started stringing them. As he slid another piece along the string, he didn’t miss that Derek was still in the doorway, watching him intently with the two of them, despite Laura’s presence.

The girls loved Isaac. They took turns sitting on his lap and making him tinsel crowns while they “discretely” stole pieces of popcorn amid stringing them. Laura found him adorable, as she took countless pictures of the scene in front of them as she sat on the edge of the couch now, having traded in her hot chocolate with a glass of what Isaac assumed was spiked eggnog. She seemed to know his story as she kept the direction of conversation pointed away from his past as they talked about the restaurant and his possible future and himself.

“I mean...maybe I’d want to become a Social Worker,” he shrugged, “I mean, it makes sense, really. I’ve seen the good and the bad and my two friends were in the system for a while. I want to be better.”

Laura nods, “I became a lawyer because of what happened with my family. I saw a bunch, went through a lot of legal garbage. And like you said, I want to be better than them. The world is full of unprofessional professionals.”

Isaac made a sound of agreement as his eyes shifted over to Derek, still in the doorway. Now, however, his focus was on Stiles who had a hand on his forearm, saying something lowly. He watched as Derek leaned into a slow melting kiss, which Stiles used to coax him back into the kitchen to help with the ham. Isaac was eternally grateful for Stiles’ ability to read a situation...and his husband. Laura seemed to notice the action as well because looked back with a knowing smile and a ‘tsk’.

“So Isaac, how are my brother’s treating you otherwise?”

“They’re great. Really. I still can’t believe they...how much they’ve done for me.”

“I’m sure Stiles is a proper gentlemen,” she nodded, “But if Derek gives you any trouble, just let me know. I’ll beat him up. I know how to make him cry,” she grinned to herself as she sat back into the couch, “He was born with a grumpy gene. Always has been a bit of a downer, really. It’s a wonder how he ever ended up with someone like Stiles.”

“They...” Isaac cleared his throat, suddenly nervous at what he was about to say. “They’re really similar in a lot of ways, though. That...that I’ve seen.”  
  
Laura squinted her eyes at the blonde, who paled, before she turned her gaze to the couple in the next room. Stiles was scrubbing at a stain vigorously before Derek quipped something that had him breaking his focus and snorting before quipping back. Melissa made a comment then, causing the whole room to throw their heads back in laughter. A smile blossomed on Laura’s face as well before she turned back.

“I think you’re right,” she took Isaac in slowly, “You’re alright, Isaac. I like you.”

He allowed the pride to run through him as it showed in his blushing twitch of his lips. He couldn’t help but feel that he had just passed some integral test. And while he was happy... _ ecstatic _ to be accepted, there was a dark twist in his chest that wondered why if everyone else could trust and accept him...why couldn’t Derek?

  
  


Two hours later it was a packed house. Liam and Kira had  run over to join Isaac and the girls in decorating the tree while Jackson and Cora took over the kitchen. The house had a homey yellow glow to it that made everything seem warm and happy like a dream or a distant memory. Music and laughter filled every corner. Isaac had never seen a better fit family, not even in those Hallmark movies Erica was obsessed with watching.

Isaac sat on the couch with Laura and Lydia (who had some kind of devious connection that made Isaac a bit nervous) Allison and Melissa. They were currently discussing Beacon Hills’ schooling system, so Isaac took the time to look around.

Jackson was still in the kitchen with Cora and now Erica, having kicked everyone out to, “Properly cook a ham, Stilinski.” By now Isaac was used to their fighting so he had laughed along with the rest of them.

The others, John, Boyd, Malia, Derek and Scott (Which he had finally had the chance to meet. He was, of course, everything he expected in someone who would have been Stiles’ best friend. Sweet and patient, quiet enough to be willing enough to go along with Stiles’ big ideas and calm enough to rein him back in if needed, fiercely loyal and deeply kind) stood nursing beers in the corner, laughing and talking about some sports thing, he was sure of. He couldn't help the rising disappointment as he watched on as Derek talked back and forth with Boyd like they were old college friends. As the thoughts raced around in his head he felt a hand drop on his shoulder. He jumped but relaxed as he saw it was only Stiles. He draped over the back of the couch following his gaze lazily. His eyes flickered to Isaac’s knowingly as the boy blushed.

“He hates me,” he sulked.

Stiles let out a laugh, “He likes you pretty okay.”

Isaac let out a huff but Stiles stayed silent. Instead of responding he placed a champagne glass of eggnog in his hands.

“Isn’t this spiked?” Isaac asked skeptically.

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” Stiles grinned.

Isaac shook his head and took a sip. Not bad.

“Like I said, don’t break your back trying to impress him. You knew he and Boyd would hit it off before I did. Enjoy yourself tonight.”

Isaac nodded in agreement.

Hell, it was Christmas.

It only did come once a year.

  
  


Stiles was sitting on Derek’s lap, arguing with Laura about what the best episode of Buffy was, Scott trying his best to back up his best friend, when Jackson announced dinner was ready. They all hurried to gather around the makeshift extended table, knocking into each other as they each found a place to sit. Once plates were made and seats were sorted, John stood. Everyone immediately quieted and focused their attention on him.

“Uh,” he cleared his throat, “Welcome to another Christmas everybody. You know I don’t like doing these little speeches, words are more of Stiles’ thing but...I’m happy to see my whole family together again. Claudia...she would have loved this,” he exchanged a misty look with Stiles as both Derek and Melissa reached for their partner's’ hand, “Everyone here is so special and different and it’s really a wonder that we’re all here and that we all fit here. Um, welcome to our new family, Isaac, Erica and Vernon. You were brought to us for a reason and well...you’re one of us now, so...Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas, everyone.”

The sentiment echoed around the table as they raised their glasses. Everyone paused and seemed to turn their attention on Derek then, seeing what his next move was. The focus was so strong and magnetic that Isaac found himself doing it as well. In one sudden movement, the man bit into his mashed potatoes and everyone moved to start their meals as well. While it did color Isaac strange, he didn’t have much time to think about it because he was working to hold back his grateful tears along with Boyd and Erica as they grasped at each other's’ hands underneath the table.

And if anyone noticed, they didn’t mention it.

  
  


After the meal dessert was served on a personal basis. Lydia and Jackson sat tangled together on the couch across from Scott and Allison with Victoria. Laura and Derek had kicked Stiles out when he had attempted to clean. He and his dad along with Cora and Addie were very focused on a game of go-fish on the floor that Isaac soon was suckered into playing. Isaac watched the two Stilinski men. Their personalities seemed too different, so he assumed where Stiles got most of his quirks was from his mother. The Sheriff was a calm and capable man that Isaac found himself having the utmost respect for. When he had brought him into the station all those weeks ago he had been patient yet firm and kind yet hard. His pride in his son was obvious by all the pictures that sat in the office of the two of them along with Derek and Melissa, Scott and Allison. He and Derek seemed to be close as well, and Isaac suspected it had to do, not only with their level headedness and stoicism or the fact that they worked together, but their love for Stiles.

“In your face Old Man!” Stiles cried, “Go Fish!”

Addie grabbed her sides as laughed, rolling into Isaac, who was now laughing too.

“You better watch it Stiles,” he warned, “you show your cards.”

With a gasp he held them closer to his chest and narrowed his eyes, “You’re bluffing.”  
  
“Ah,” he tsked, “I guess we’re just gonna have to wait and see.”

Stiles lost.

  
  


Derek was elbows deep in the sink while Laura worked on drying and putting away the pots and pans they had used--they had all used plasticware, as they had learned their lesson about dishes their first big holiday they had all shared.

“What’s your problem with Isaac?”

Derek grunted.

“I don’t speak caveman.”

“You know.”  
  
“Not really. He seems like a sweet kid. Very...pure.”

“ _ Pure _ doesn’t nearly kill someone.”

“Stiles has killed people.”

At that Derek pulled back to glare at his sister.

“I’m just saying, you told me that when you finally got together with Stiles, that one of the reasons you loved him was because he was pure.”

“He  _ is _ pure. He has magic  _ because _ he’s pure.”

“Even after the nogitsune?”

His eyes flashed red, “Watch what you’re saying, Laura.”

She put her hands up in surrender, “You know I would never, Derek,” she assure, all while narrowing her own eyes, “but even after he lost his magic and purity...”  
  
“He got it back.”

She nodded, “I know. But even after that...you loved him?”

“Of course I did,” he growled.

“Isaac made a mistake, Derek. He was low and desperate. Stiles has killed on less than that.”  
  
“For good reason.”

“I know, Derek,” she snapped, “Don’t question my trust and devotion to Stiles. You know it’s there. Probably as strong as yours,” Derek scoffed, but didn’t deny it, “Look into that room. Everyone in there has killed someone. Everyone in there has made mistake after mistake after mistake, ones that have cost  _ lives _ . Me and you  _ and _ Stiles.”  
  
“So?”  
  
“So...Isaac made a mistake, Der. And it was a bad one. But it was a mistake. Now I’ve had my people following him like you asked. It’s been months. There’s been no sign of hunters or other packs or any kind of anything around him. No calls, no visits, no nothing. He’s a good kid Derek. And he’s part of this family now.”

He shook his head, “No.”  
  
Laura grunted, “You’re hopeless. You’re making everyone miserable.”  
  
“I’d rather have everyone miserable than everyone dead, Laura!”

“Hey, guys,” Stiles’ voice split theirs followed by a whistle as he stuck his head in, “come on. We’re about to light the tree.”

A few moments later Derek had his arm wrapped around Stiles’ waist, holding him close while Addie and Tori dramatically counted down.

“Five. Four. Three. Two. One!”  
  
The room erupted into cheers as the mess of lights and decorations came to life. It wasn’t a pretty tree. Not by any stretch of a mile. There were homemade decorations, and clumps of tinsel and popcorn strings. The candy canes were all near the bottom for easy access and branches were drooping from the weight. It wasn’t about to win any contests, that was for sure. But it was theirs and really...that was all any of them could have asked for.

After kissing Stiles on the temple, Derek returned back into the kitchen, wanting to finish the last of the dishes so he could have the rest of the night to relax. Laura was there, a heavyweight by his side seconds later.

“Listen. I don’t want to fight on Christmas?”  
  
“Why not? We do it every year.”  
  
“Shut up. We don’t.”  
  
“Last year it was about how to do the ham. The year before that it was because I wanted to get Addie a doll. Before that...”  
  
“Okay, okay. So we do. But that’s what siblings are for. Right?”

“Sure.”

She let out a breath,  “I don’t want to argue. I just...you and Stiles are so happy. And I love...Derek I love seeing you so happy. I just don’t want anything stupid to tear you guys apart.”

Derek sighed and dried his hands before turning to face his sister.

“It’s not going to.”

“I know about the fights. Cora...”  
  
“I know. But...Stiles and I fight. It’s what we do. Sometimes I think it’s the only thing we’re good at when it comes to us being together. But it’s not going to tear us apart. We’re too far in for that anymore. I--”

“Eck. Are you two having a moment?”

They jumped at the voice, turning to see Cora in the doorway, a hesitant expression on her face. Laura beckoned her over.

“Not anymore. You ruined it.”

She carried herself over to stand in between the two of them.

“Are you guys having your annual Christmas fight?”  
  
“See?” Derek cried, “I told you.”  
  
“Shut up,” Laura hissed, “We’re talking about Isaac.”  
  
“Oh,” Cora said, “He’s cool. I like him. Derek doesn’t.”

“I know.”

“And he fights with Stiles about it.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
“ _ Cora _ ,” Derek whined.

“It gets bad.”

“Jesus,” he swore while Laura preened, “I know.”

“We’re not...we’re fine. I just...I don’t trust him.”

All three Hales turned to watch him. He was blowing bubbles with Addie and Tori in the living room. Each girl was taking turns to see which could blow the bigger bubble and Isaac was judging them out of 10. He jumped, however, when one landed on his nose and popped, which caused the girls and Kira who was also playing along, to laugh.

“Yeah,” Cora drawled, “He’s a stone cold killer.”

Derek gave her a flat look.

“I’m working on it.”  
  
“Are you? Because I thought you were going to maim him while he was helping Tori and Addie make the popcorn strings.”  
  
“I am and...Stiles and I have been talking about it. And I’m working past it. Really. We...we have some plans and I need to be able to...to, I don’t know...”

“Give the benefit of the doubt?”  
  
“I guess.”

Laura placed a hand on his upper arm, “I know it’s hard, Der. Especially with what happened to us. You obviously have a different perspective but what happened happened to all three of us. I know how it feels to want to rip someone’s throat out for just  _ looking _ at someone I love wrong. Hell, Addies teacher said she was a bit behind in math and I wanted to maim her. But...we have to work passed it.”

“I just...I can’t let anything happen to Stiles.”

“You can't never let anything happen to him. Then nothing would ever happen to him.”

The two older siblings turned to look at Cora with shocked expressions. She let out a huff of annoyance and their shock of her ever possibly saying something of worth, “It’s from Finding Nemo.”

“Derek,” Laura turned back to him ignoring her sister completely, “I watched as you decapitated an  _ alpha _ for getting too close to him. I’ve watched  _ him _ take out  _ ten  _ hunters in a split second because they were going to take him and use him for information. I’ve seen your pack go until their bloody and broken and half dead to keep each other safe. If you can’t trust yourself at least trust him. And if all else fails, you have to  _ know _ that you have one hell of a pack around to back you up. Always.”

“And two kickass sisters.”

Laura smiled, “And two kickass sisters.”

There were silence between them for a while before Derek nodded and Laura pulled her two younger siblings in for a hug.

“Mom and Dad would be fucking bugging right now,” Cora murmured as she pressed her face harder into Derek’s chest in an attempt to hide her tears.  
  
“Mom and Dad would have had your ear for swearing,” Derek confirmed, “that’s for sure.”

After a while they all pulled back, ignoring each other's’ misty eyes.

“Stiles and I are talking about adoption,” Derek muttered a moment later, eyes trained on the ground.

“R-really?”  
  
He nodded, “But we decided that we’d only do it when I could...control myself.”

Embarrassment peaked in his scent and Cora leaned into him in comfort, “Then we’ll work on it. All of us, okay?”  
  
Derek brought up an arm to wrap around his sister’s shoulder, “Okay.”

A comfortable silence lingered around them, as they all stood there, just happy to be in each others presence.

“That’s a lot of dry humor in one room,” Stiles announced as he sauntered in, an empty plate in his hands.

They all, predictably, answered the comment with a flat look.

“Interrupting something?”

Derek shook his head as he held out his free hand and took Stiles’ in is.

“Just talking about family,” Laura smiled at the two of them fondly.

“Really. Well let me tell you how my Dad just fucking cheated in Go-Fish then.”  
  
Derek and Laura exchanged a look over Stiles’ head while Cora listened to him ramble on and on about counting cards and eventually the evils of casinos. 

And for the first time in a while, Derek felt alright.

  
  


They were all gathered around the living room, sets of them sprawled on couches and the floor while they all exchanged presents. The girls Addie and Tori, were of course, spoiled. But the rest of them decided on a Secret Santa Exchange. Jackson got Isaac a pair of nice sneakers for his “walks”--the joke had been well received, with Erica and Boyd being the only ones who did not completely get it-- as well as a navy blue cashmere scarf. Stiles gifted Jackson a black Armani watch that had cost him too much money, but the surprised happy look on his face was worth it. Derek got Melissa a beautiful pearl drop necklace (she cried). Lydia got Liam the an entire set of new Lacrosse gear....and the gifts went on. There were tears and disbelief and joy and love.

They had all pooled together to get Erica, Isaac and Boyd heaps and heaps of new clothing as well as upgraded toiletries and home goods to furnish their nearly barren apartments upstairs.

As for Stiles and Derek, they had started a fund last year and filled it in nearly six months to send them to Europe for two weeks.

“What?”  
  
Lydia smiled, “Yeah. You guys can get out of here for a while, finally. Explore the world.”

Derek looked between her and his sisters, eyes skeptical and okay, Isaac thought, maybe this whole distrust thing  _ wasn’t _ personal.

“Thank you,” he nearly whispered.

Stiles still seemed to be in shock for a moment before jumping up and down and grabbing at Derek’s arm, “Dude! We’re going to Europe. Oh my God!”

Derek’s face finally broke into a smile, “Yeah,” he breathed.  
  
“We are sooo having sex in France with and Eiffel Tower view.”  
  
Groans filled the room while Allison and Laura were quick to cover their daughters’ ears. Derek only laughed though and kissed Stiles briefly before shaking his head again in disbelief. They each went around the room, taking everyone in hugs and profuse thank yous over and over and over again.

“It’s a big anniversary, this year,” John smiled at them with pride.

They exchanged looked, “Our fifth,” Derek muttered almost in shock.

“You sure you haven’t gotten sick of him yet?” Scott called across the room after a wolf whistle from Malia.

“Wow,” Stiles grinned, leaning into Derek, a hand over his chest, “Five years with my dream man. Can life get any better?”

“Actually,” Derek smiled, lifting his gaze to Laura who was approaching them with a box, “maybe.”  
  
Stiles distanced himself from his husband, eyes narrowed as he reached for it. Smiles spanned the room, as they all had known the secret before hand. Stiles lifted the lid and his eyes immediately widened as he dropped the box. Isaac was astonished by the speed at which Derek caught it, inches from the ground with a deep chuckle.

“Oh my God!” he cried, mouth open as he looked down at it, “ _ Oh _ my God. I almost killed it.”

Laughter rang around the room as he reached down and pulled out a sleek black kitten with yellow eyes. He settled him on his chest and it immediately curled in on itself to sleep. He seemed too shocked to even speak as he examined it.

“Do...do you like it?” Derek asked with a hint of concern.

Isaac couldn’t help but find it adorable that big tough Deputy Derek was suddenly nervous that his husband didn’t like his gift. Apparently he wasn’t the only one because Allison let out a soft ‘aw’ beside him and Cora snickered.

“I...I think I might die.”

Derek laughed in relief, pressing his lips to Stiles’ temple.

“Thank you, Derek. Oh my God. I love it. I just....oh my god. I can’t believe you.”

This time Stiles found his lips to kiss.

“The irony is not lost in this either,” he pointed out.

And Isaac didn’t quite get the joke but he smiled at them anyway.

“Oh my God. We have to name it Mr. Bigglesworth.”  
  
“No.”

“But Derek...”  
  
“ _ No _ .”

“Crookshanks then?”

“No.”

“Salem?”  
  
“Can’t you come up with anything original?” Lydia scoffed.

“No. This cat will be named after one of the Greats.”

“Why not just call it Lucifer then,” Erica scoffed.

At that Stiles perked up, but Derek shut it down with a stern no before anything could be said about that.

  
  


So with the nameless cat now in Allison’s lap, most of the crew were curled up watching Christmas movies in the living room. Tori hung off Jackson while Addie was wrapping Isaac’s new scarf around his neck, deciding on which style would go best with Malia. A handful of them were in the kitchen dishing out leftovers while others were getting ready to go. It was only moments later that both Tori and Addie were out cold on the couch in between Isaac and Jackson and Scott, Allison and Laura hurried to get them in the car and home so they all could get a decent nights sleep before the next day.

  
  


Eventually the leftovers were gone and the house was quiet, leaving just the two of them (plus the cat).

“Thank you for today,” Stiles said.

Derek smiled down at him before reaching to lift him up. Stiles let out a gasp before instinctively wrapping his legs around him as Derek kissed him, focusing on sucking at his bottom lip until he moaned.

“Mm. So...what do you think? Was it the best Christmas yet?”

Stiles huffed a laugh, “I think we’re about to find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *evil laugh* yeahhhh, no smut
> 
> BUT "C is for Christmas" from my smut collection will probably be a continuation of this scene, jingle balls and all.
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed the chapter. And how was the mood & tone? I tried to get across a light easy kind of holiday mood but I can't really tell if I did. I think it's more driven in reality than I had planned, but then again, I can't really tell with my own writing. And how did you feel about the Laura/Cora/Derek scene? Like I said, it actually proved rather challenging to write so I'd love to hear your opinions on it.
> 
> And...I also wanted to say, here especially (bc idk maybe YOU guys will just GET it but...) Sterek has ruined my outlook on relationships. For example, I have a date tomorrow (as I'm here updating at 4am) but I am just dreading going because I know it's not going to be anything like a the "perfect" Sterek relationship I want and UGH. I know not all relationships are the same but I want something as deep as this fictional made up romance and oh my god I'm insane. Smh. But idk does this shit have an affect on any of you or is it just me bc wtf? 
> 
> Also just a fun question....who are you in a relationship (if either) Derek or Stiles? And like...any idea for kitten names?
> 
> Is all that stupid? Yeah. But it's 4am and I'll probably wake up well into tomorrow and be embarrassed and erase the entire end note anyway, so...
> 
> Again, thank you so so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it and I hope to see you again soon.
> 
> midnight x


	7. Improvement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is basically part two to the Sappiest Sap of a Sappy Christmas Chapter Sap. But like...who doesn't enjoy a nice fluff bath? 
> 
> I initially had this and what will be CH 8 in the same chapter, but there was too much going on and this gives me the opportunity to get out another installment for you guys AND have more time to finish the next part. So...here you go.
> 
> Also, thank you guys for all the support you're showing this piece. You're the best.
> 
> As something that was initially meant to be a 3-4k fic nearing 20k+....there's a lot to be said about the reaction. This whole fic comes from your love. So thank you thank you thank you, for always finding a way to make my life a little better.
> 
> I sincerely hope you like this installment. I hope to have this fic wrapped up within the next two weeks.  
> So...enjoy the ride.

Stiles woke tangled in Derek’s arms. Their warm skin against each other was just enough to make Stiles never want to move again. Ever. But he blinked at the clock. It was already well into eight o’clock and they had company coming at nine. Groaning, Stiles tried to shift his body over, but was caught by a pair of strong arms.

“Where do you think you’re going?”  
  
“To shower. Company’s coming.”  
  
“Five more minutes.”  
  
Stiles sighed. How could he say no? Especially to those big tired eyes and fluffy bed head that had Stiles’ insides  _ doing  _ things. He rolled back over so that he now lay atop of Derek, his legs fit perfectly between the older man’s, his face tucked into the cook of his neck.

“Thanks for letting us do this.”  
  
Derek pressed his lips against Stiles’ forehead, “You don’t have to thank me. It’s your house, too.”  
  
“I know but....I know it’s been hard for you. And this...this is an improvement.”  
  
Derek hmm’d, “I’d do anything for you.”  
  
Stiles brought his chin up so that he could rest his gaze on Derek’s face, “I know. I just wish you weren’t doing it for me.”

Silence spread in the room around them. The wolf didn’t respond, only tightening his grip and inhaling Stiles’ scent. It was pure and untapped and  _ Stiles _ . 

“I love you,” he whispered.

Stiles leaned up and pressed a soft, unhurried kiss to his lips, “I love you, too,” he said before rolling off the bed and sauntering off towards the shower.

Derek remained in bed, however, watching his husbands pale spotted back disappear around the corner. Something clenched in his chest that had him rising to his feet to follow. And at the scent of Stiles’ relief when he joined him in the bathroom, had him knowing he had made the right move. He didn’t know exactly what move he had made, and he had a feeling Stiles didn’t know either, but it was right. He felt relieved. Like he had just dodged a bullet. For both of them. And Derek would dodge as many bullets as he could to keep them safe. To keep them  _ them _ .

He ran his knuckles up Stiles’ spine, ducking his head down to run his nose along Stiles’ shoulder. He felt long fingers reach back and comb themselves through his hair.

“Merry Christmas, baby.”

Derek pulled him into his chest, “Merry Christmas.”

 

At nine they were dressed (in pajamas) and in the kitchen running the coffee through and murmuring back and forth. The doorbell rang and Stiles immediately perked up and ran to the door, his socks negating all friction, causing him to slam into the wall.

“Careful,” Derek hissed, having heard the thud.

Stiles’ only answer was laughter before he flung opened the door with a grin.

“Merry Christmas!”

Isaac smiled back shyly at him, “Merry Christmas.”

“Come on in. Where are the other two?”  
  
“Parking the car.”

He nodded, “We just put the coffee on. We woke up sort of late.”  
  
Isaac gave him a knowing look and Stiles shoved at him, “Whatever. I’m sure Derek’s started the pancakes?”

“Yes, dear,” came his voice from the kitchen.  
  
“Do all the Hales have like Hancock Level hearing?”

Stiles stilled for a moment before giving him an easy grin, “Dear?” he asked, voice staying neutral.

“Yes, dear,” came Derek’s answer again.

Isaac’s face immediately pinked but Stiles only laughed though and threw an arm around his shoulders, “No, the house is just spacey, is all. Come on. Derek always burns the bacon.”

They stepped into the kitchen to see Derek at the stove, expertly watching both pans.

“Do not,” he gruffed, in response.

Stiles smiled and popped onto his toes to give his husband a brief kiss on the jaw. It was odd to see, even after last night. Derek being.... _ soft _ and warm and grumbly. And Stiles being...so naturally drawn to him, so comfortable and so happy. Stiles was  _ normally _ happy. But when Derek was there, there was a certain light in his eyes and ease to his movements that drew Isaacs attention, no matter where he was or what he was doing. It was....admirable. And Isaac only hoped that he’d find somebody that had that effect on him one day.

Stiles ushered him to the stove next to Derek and put him in charge of the bacon. To his utter surprise, Derek offered him a soft smile and a “good morning.” Isaac’s eyes widened and his chest tightened. 

It was a fucking Christmas Miracle.

 

Boyd and Erica came tumbling in moments later to also be wrapped up in a Stiles hug right before being put to work. Once everyone had their coffee and had woken up a bit, the house flowed with warm chatter. Derek and Boyd were speaking happily about some show they both liked while Erica and Stiles bitched about the new Marvel Movie that didn’t quite “catch the essence of the comics, Derek!” Isaac was happily listening to them talk about the characters and storylines and plot holes and directors, etc. And when he had piped in that he had kind of  _ liked  _ the ending before four sets of eyes turned towards him, full of devastation and pity. The faux tension was dispelled when No Name came barreling in from the living room and skidded straight into the couch. Stiles cooed and scooped him up, peppering his furry face with kisses while the tiny thing mew'd back at him. Isaac found it rather...adorable. And so did Derek, judging by the blush on his face when their eyes met.

 

“Okay,” Erica smiled, clapping her hands together excitedly, “presents!”

They all scooted over to the couch around the tree, reaching for the pile of wrapped gifts and boxes, distributing them to the intended receiver.

“Do we go around the circle or--”

Boyd was cut off by a screech from Erica who had, unsurprisingly, already torn into her gift.

“Holy Batman,” she swooned, holding out the leather jacket in front of her, staring at it like she couldn’t quite believe it was there.

“We figured it would suit you.”

She let the jacket fall into her lap, still clutching at it, so tightly that her knuckles were white.

“I...I haven’t had a jacket in a long time.”

Stiles’ stomach dropped at the thought and Derek reached to rub his husband’s back at the tick of his heartbeat.

“We didn’t even think of that, Erica,” Derek spoke for both of them, “We’re sorry if--”

Her golden eyes snapped up to him, “No. No I love it. I just...thank you guys.”

Derek gave her a tentative smile and turned towards Boyd who unwrapped a football jersey (some team Stiles had no clue existed but Derek insisted that Boyd  _ needed  _ it) and two tickets to a college game near by. He gave the couple his signature shy smile that was full of gratitude, before thanking them. By the way he kept looking at the tickets like they were something precious, let Stiles know all that he needed to know. They all turned to Isaac who was looking down at his lap, eyes wide and jaw clenched.

“It’s okay,” Erica placed a hand on his knee.

At that Stiles threw her a questioning look and she sighed in resignation.

“It’s still a lot to take in,” she informed him. When his confusion did not dissipate, she continued, “Not a few months ago we were living on the street like animals, digging....digging through dumpsters and trash cans for food. You know, sleeping in alleyways. And now...we’re here. Being...having a Christmas. I  _ never _ thought I’d get another Christmas in my life. We had nothing....just what we could carry. And now we have an apartment filled with gifts and....everything we could ever want. We talked about it last night. It’s still hard to wrap our heads around.”

“I’m sorry,” Stiles was already apologizing again, tears in his eyes, full of regret and sorrow and confusion, “should I not have....”

Derek was the one who cut him off, pulling him into his chest. 

His first instinct was to get rid of whatever made Stiles smell that way--of heaviness and bitter like distress and sadness and grief and...and the last person who had made Stiles feel that was was no longer living (granted it had been during a fight and Stiles had thought Scott had been killed but either way...the thing had been gone in a flash). Now...now, however, it wasn’t so easy. Fighting.... _ that _ was easy. Kill the threat. Get rid of it. Everyone was safe. But now? The threat was...not a threat. They were people Stiles cared about and...and people Derek's pack cared about. It wasn’t as simple as biting their heads off or tearing their throats out. He had to...breath for one. And...and then maybe yell a little? He didn’t know. Maybe no yelling? Stiles was the one who was good at this. Stiles was the _human_ one. Derek...Derek was not.

“No,” Isaac reached out to Stiles and Derek couldn’t hold back his glare.

The boy immediately recoiled and Stiles shifted in a way that let Derek know he was silently being chastised.

“No, we appreciate it. It’s fine. More than fine,” Isaac amended, eyes snapping between the couple.

“What Erica was _trying to say_ ,” Boyd cut in, “was that we’re extremely grateful for everything you two have given us. And sometimes we can’t believe we got this lucky.”

There was a silence between the five of them before Stiles was nodding and wiping at his tears.

“I’m sorry. I just...I didn’t want to do anything to...you know, make you guys upset.”

Erica gave him a deadpan stare, “Relax, Stilinski. You could throw us off a cliff and we'd still thank you.  I was good at math and science and shit. Vernon here was the one with the English grades.”

Stiles snorted, “I can tell.”

There was another few moments of recovering silence before Stiles poked at Isaac with his foot, “Are you gonna open it?”

He swallowed and nodded, carefully removing the paper, which had Erica groaning in annoyance at the pace.

In the box there were two main items: an art supply kid, nothing too impressive, but it was something...and Isaac had mentioned that he used to draw for fun...and a book on Social Work with Children. His eyes shot up in shock to Stiles at the sight of the book.

“Don’t look at me,” he smiled coyly, wrapping his arms around Derek’s, who was resting with his hand on the inside of Stiles’ thigh, “That one was all Derek.”

Isaac’s big eyes flew to Derek’s green ones, then.

He meant to say thank you, he really did, but a small noise was all that came out followed by a weak, “How?”

He shrugged, “I overheard you. Talking to Laura yesterday. I wanted to be a Social Worker for a while. I majored in child psychology before I became a cop. I....I found it laying around. Figured you might want it.”

From Stiles’ hidden smile, he figured “laying around” was somewhere deep in storage that had taken hours to fish out, but he didn’t call him on it.

“Wow. I...thank you Derek. I...thank you.”

Derek regarded him with a nod that got him a quick peck on the cheek as a reward and Isaac couldn’t keep the smile off his face for the rest of the morning.

“We got you guys something too,” Isaac smiled as Boyd reached under the tree.

He handed it to Derek, since Stiles still had No Name curled up on his lap, carefully lapping at his paws and sometimes Stiles’ fingers as well in confusion. He scooted next to Derek a bit more to see at what the man was looking at, now that it was partially unwrapped. 

It was a picture frame with multiple photos of the pack. There was a picture of them all singing to Liam at his birthday last month, the one with the floured mess of Jackson, Stiles and Kira. The Halloween picture of Lydia and Jackson dressed up as Sandy and Danny while Derek and Stiles flanked them dressed as Wolverine and “Little Red." In the center, however, was Stiles’ favorite. The whole pack was there, including the parents  _ and  _ Erica, Isaac and Boyd, standing in front of the restaurant. Every year they took a similar photo and sent it into the local newspaper with a short thank you note to the community. This year it had taken them several tries (as usual) to get a decent one, and this had been one of the duds. Derek was glaring at Stiles who was laughing at something with Scott, which had John, Melissa and Chris sharing looks of disappointed amusement. Liam, Jackson and Lydia were arguing animatedly while Kira and Laura tried to wrangle in Addie and Tori. Cora and Malia looked like they would rather have been  _ anywhere _ else as the photographer, Stiles remembered, had just about given up and Lydia was trying to give them all directions. Meanwhile, the new three were sitting on the ground a bit off to the right, smiling up at the chaos, their eyes gleaming with happiness and mirth. It made Stiles’ inside hurt with happiness.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t afford something like you know but...”  
  
“Shush,” Stiles waved a hand at her, “It’s perfect. I love it so much, oh my God.”

“Me, too,” Derek gruffed, smiling, “It really is perfect. Thank you.”

The three exchanged grins of relief as Derek stood to place it on the bookshelf that was home to a handful of other pictures and frames, “I’ll hang it once I find a hammer,” he promised, eyes cutting to Isaac’s.

The boy swallowed and nodded. Even without being addressed, he had a strange feeling that he was the one being spoken to, like Derek was making sure Isaac understood that he wasn’t dismissing the present. And Isaac...Isaac had no problem with that.

 

“We should get going,” Boyd said, as he looked out the window an hour or so later.

Snow was coming down in sheets now. It was hard to even see the huge bothersome tree in the Hale’s front yard.

“You guys sure you’ll be able to get back okay?” Derek asked, coming up behind him.

“If we leave now,” Erica called over, “I took defensive driving in the winter.”

Stiles laughed from where he was helping her and Isaac clean up the living room.

Eventually they got their coats and shoes on and lingered in front of the door to say their farewells. Erica grabbed both men by the neck and pulled them in for a hug.

“Merry Christmas,” she cried.

“Merry Christmas, beautiful,” Stiles smiled into her hair.

Boyd gave both of them a brief shake of the hand, but Stiles pulled him in at the last minute.

“This family hugs shit out, Vernon.”

The man gave a low chuchkle but nodded as he returned the gesture.

Isaac and Derek’s eyes met next, and Derek wrinkled his nose briefly as if he could smell Isaac’s anxiety. He alleviated it, however with a small nod of his head which Isaac returned along with a quiet smile because...yeah, he felt like they were finally getting somewhere, even if it was slowly. Stiles cut the moment short when suddenly Isaac had an armful of the smiling young man.

The couple watched them pile into one of Jackson’s trucks he had lent them for the day, “Call when you get there,” Stiles cried after them, holding Derek’s hand tightly in his.

“We will,” Erica shouted back over the wind, “Merry Christmas!”  
  
“Merry Christmas.”

 

A few hours later, once the dishes were done and the house was cleaned, they had made their calls to friends and family and everyone in between, they found themselves on the couch, legs tangled on the ottoman in front of them, the fire place cackling to their rights and the muted television in front of them playing a loop of classic Christmas movies. Stiles’ face was resting on Derek’s shoulder while both his arms were thrown around his husband’s strong torso. Derek’s arm was in its favorite place, wrapped around Stiles’ tapered waist with his nose buried into Stiles’ forever bedhead. He pressed a kiss to his temple, closing his eyes and relaxing in his husband’s presence.

“Okay,” Stiles said after a few quiet seconds as he smiled into Derek’s cheek, “today was kind of perfect.”

Derek’s heart clenched. Because he really never thought he would have this. That he’d ever have a family again. Or find someone to put up with his moods or his sarcasm or his lack of emotional availability. He thought he had lost that all in the fire years ago. But here he was. In a house... _ his _ house. With a beautiful man that was all his own. They had thrown a  _ family Christmas _ , where there had been bickering and laughter and annoyance and love and everything a family holiday promised. Some days he wakes up and still can’t quite believe that he got so lucky.

“Yeah,” he agreed, suddenly breathless, “it kind of was.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy, huh? 
> 
> Idk, Christmas to me is just like THE MOST romantic holiday, I don't know what it is but...it's there. And I am so ready for it, let me tell you.
> 
> I think we're maybe seeing some character growth? Eh?
> 
> Pretty please let me know what you guys thought. I hope to see you in the comments!
> 
> Lots of Love & Lots of Sterek
> 
> ~midnight x


	8. Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh yeah....here it is.
> 
> This is kind of the anticlimactic climax of this fic. I've been planning this out for a while so I hope you guys like the ahem *change* in pace, in style and in idk everything.
> 
> Thanks for coming back guys, even if this piece is a little shabby. There's only one more two more chapters left including the epilouge which I'll update with the last chapter. So yeah, only two more installments and this fic will be officially done. 
> 
> So thanks for all the love and support. I'll try to get a chapter up before Thanksgiving. 
> 
> midnight

Before long, they found themselves in January. Business slowed down because of the snow and early nights but that just left them more time to spend together. 

Kira taught Boyd the bakery. She was heading to Japan for a few weeks in the spring to see some of her family and Boyd had seemed interested enough. He took to it like a duck took to water, so most of their time was spent reinventing some of their classics that Stiles demanded he must taste test (he had eventually roped Isaac into it too, but he wasn’t complaining).

Jackson and Cora worked on a new menu, claiming that they had to keep it interesting or they would become that local diner that only townies and old people came to eat at.

When Lydia was there, she showed Erica how to keep the books, manage their budget and most importantly, as she had claimed, how to say no to Stiles.

When she wasn’t there, it was Allison, Erica and Malia spending their free time together, learning each other. They were an odd mixture, but they were a team and when everyone else was busy in their own designated parts of the restaurant, all they had were each other. Allison was too bubbly a taste for Erica, who had finally come out of her shell for the most part with crass jokes and sarcasm. And while Malia had years of knowing Allison on her side, the hunter wasn’t the first on her list of sought out company. There was no distaste, but they weren’t ones to really mesh, either. Erica and Malia, as both strong independent personalities, tended to rub at each other the wrong way. It was Allison, who constantly had to break them up which didn’t help out _her_ situation at all. But they were coming around. Getting used to each other’s quirks and styles. They had come a long way from just last month, most of it, the others assumed, came from Lydia’s impromptu “Girls Night” she had thrown last week. And it did. Tears and sex talk and insecurities and six bottles of Moscato had done them all some good. If Lydia got the idea from Derek and Scott’s relationship and the unfortunate way they had come to terms with being in each other’s lives...well, she’d never admit it.

Liam, however, kept himself holed up in the breakroom when he was there, catching up on his mountain of assignments he had neglected to do over winter break. Curiosity fully piqued, Isaac often found himself holed up with him, asking questions, puzzling things out and trying to understand half the shit this guy Harriss had him doing. Liam never once asked about his sudden interest. When he spoke it was often a compliment on an observation or a loud complaint that Isaac couldn’t relate to.

From that their friendship grew. Liam started inviting him to hang out with his friends (Mason, Hayden and Corey). They went to the movies to sporting events, to Liam’s house. It was...it was kind of great. Isaac went to every single one of his lacrosse games, more times than not with Stiles and or Jackson in tow. They’d have “Bro Nights” as Scott and Stiles called them, where Liam would bring his gaming set over to the apartment upstairs when Boyd and Erica had “date nights” and they’d play and eat junk food until four in the morning. Isaac couldn’t remember the last time he had a friend. And it warmed him every time Liam would introduce him or address him as such.

 

Derek had started coming in less, which didn’t seem to phase anyone except him. When he had mentioned it to Stiles, worrying his bottom lip, the man had only laughed, “Take that as a good sign then,” was all he answered.    
When the man did come in, he was often accompanied by either John or another man who Isaac later learned to be Jordan Parrish. They’d have lunch and hang out during their break. And clearly, Stiles had a thing for his husband in a uniform of the knowing looks from Derek himself, as well as the others, had any significant meaning.

 

Eventually, Liam finished his pile of homework and Stiles assaulted him with three giant “College Search Books.”

The kid had groaned dramatically.

“Gotta start looking now, Li,” Stiles had only said before smiling coyly and winking at Isaac as he plopped down into the seat next to him.

“Now, do you want to stay In-State or nah?”

The search went on for days, with still no obvious answer in sight, but Stiles didn’t seemed discouraged.

“You still have time, dude. It’s just good to look at all your options,” he’d say.

But this...well it got Isaac thinking about...about well maybe going to school. He was...he was seventeen. It wasn’t too late, right? I mean...he’d have a lot to catch up on. But Liam and his friends could help him. And Stiles. And....everyone else. But he could. Totally.

So when he was sitting at the break table eating a bowl of soup Stiles had placed in front of him before sitting next to Allison he cleared his throat.

“I think....I think I want to go to school.”

There was a brief silence that had him squirming in his seat before the two grinned.

“That’s really great Isaac,” Allison smiled while Stiles just looked at him with a knowing look that made Isaac’s chest burn with pride.

 

In the end he decided to get his GED. He thought the people...in high school, it would be too much. Besides, he was technically still “missing” and a ward of the state. Stiles had thrown around the word ‘adoption’ a few times, but even he knew it was a stretch. He'd be legal in a few months anyway. They spent the month studying at every lull in the crowd and even though it was a short time span, Lydia Martin deemed him ready.

Isaac...Isaac wasn’t dumb. He had made it to sixth grade. It was just the specifics he had trouble with. And the math. But Lydia had been on him since day one and if she deemed him ready then he supposed...he was ready.

Stiles picked him up bright and early and drove him to the testing center. They sat in the car in silence before Isaac’s eyes met his.

“Relax. We’re all pulling for you, but we’re not gonna be upset if you don’t cut it this time, You’ve been studying year’s worth of material in under a month. So if it doesn’t happen this time, we go back to the drawing board.”

He nodded, “Thank you.”

Stiles gave him an easy grin, “No problem, kid.”   
  


  
Eight hours fucking later, he stumbled out of the building, bleary eyed and hungry. He spotted the blue jeep and made his way over. Stiles looked up from his phone and ‘tsked’ in pity. He didn’t bother asking how the test was and Isaac was eternally grateful. Stiles gave him the day off and shoved a plate of hot food into his hands and directed him upstairs.

 

The next day he tumbled down the stairs eagerly. It was a Sunday and he figured no one would be there, but to his surprise.... _ everyone _ was.

“What--” he started, eyes flitting from one face to another.

“The scores came,” Stiles said, nearly bouncing on his toes from where he stood, arm around Derek.

“Did I...did you...I?”

“We didn’t open it,” he shook his head as Lydia pushed the laptop towards him. 

He hovered over the link for a moment, breath caught in his throat. Malia reached out to place a hand on his. The gesture was surprising, but not unwelcome. He met her eye and then Liam’s who gave him a nod of encouragement. But, as always, he landed on Stiles. Stiles who was smiling at him like a proud parent of some kind. It made his anxiety skyrocket.

“Are you okay?” Jackson asked.

He nodded and offered them all a small smile, “Just nervous.”  
  
“Well if you could hurry it up,” Cora snarked, “you’re giving  _ me _ anxiety.”  
  
He offered her a quick apology and clicked the link before he could talk himself out of it.

Silence took over the room as they all stared at the boy, waiting. When he looked back up his face was split into a grin.

“Well?”  
  
“One seventy nine.”

“What?” Lydia gasped

“One seventy nine,” he repeated.

“Is that...is that good?” Malia asked.

“That’s amazing!” Stiles cried, pulling Isaac in a hug.

“The highest is two hundred” Lydia explained, pushing everyone into motion.

There was an excited cheer from the group before they all made their way, one by one, towards Isaac to congratulate him. It was just a GED. Just something to get him started, really. But boy did Isaac feel like he won the lottery. And looking around, at everyone’s proud, happy faced, he realises that he had.

 

So yeah...things were going great. And that’s when most things seem to take a turn. And boy, was the universe in balance.

 

It was an odd night. As Erica, Boyd and Isaac came to call it. 

It happened once in awhile. It usually started with Derek coming into visit. He’d have a cup of coffee and sit in the corner, whispering to Stiles. He’d leave then, and for the rest of the day everyone else would be tense. They’d be jumpy and raring to go. The three assumed it was Derek and Stiles fighting and the others worrying over it, and attempting to fix it. Because then some of them would leave. They’d mumble something about an emergency or an appointment or a meeting or something and disappear for the rest of the day. Then Scott would show up and stay with Stiles and the others as they closed up the shop. The next day only half of them would show up to work and the others would look murderously tired like they hadn’t slept in weeks. 

The three tossed ideas back and forth for the reasoning of it all. Maybe Scott was there to bring Stiles to his and Allison’s house because the couple was fighting? They didn’t know. Couldn’t figure it out, either. They had all seen Stiles and Derek fight before. And...it wasn’t pretty. But they had never tried to hide  _ those  _ times from them, so why try and keep in on the down low at others? 

Anway...

So it was one of those nights. And Valentine’s Day. So, like double whammy. The day started off as usual, Derek coming in, he and Stiles exchanging heated whispers in the corner, the others tensing around him, etc. John had come in this time, a strange look on his face as he barked an order at Derek who stood, pressed a chaste kiss to Stiles’ forehead--in the spirit of the holiday, Isaac supposed and stalked out. The rest of the day was spent with him going about his business and catching a half a dozen similar styled conversations between them all. It was nearing dark now and there was a blue tint to the sky. The only others left in the restaurant where Stiles, Cora and Isaac. It was about an hour before close when Stiles got a text that had him rising to his feet and yelling for Cora.

“Sorry Isaac,” he breathed, pulling on his coat, “we have to go. Something...family emergency. We’ll explain when we get back. Can you close up?”

“Yeah, no problem,” he replied, drying his hands on his apron.

He had closed on his own about twenty times by now, it was old hat to him.

“Thank you. Feel free to duck out a few minutes early. I don’t think there’ll be much of a crowd tonight.”

He nodded and watched him stumble around, “Jesus, Cora. Come on, we have to  _ go _ !”

A moment later she was rounding the corner with a murderous look on her face, grabbing on to Stiles’ wrist and pulling him out the door.

The woman who was calmly finishing her chicken parm furrowed her brows and threw Isaac a questioning look to which he just shrugged in response. Not long after, the woman was done and paid, leaving a decent tip and her warm wishes. Isaac had finished the dishes, turned off the equipment and was heading upstairs. 

He stopped in his tracks when he remembered that he had left the garbage by the door. Normally, he’d be tempted to leave it, take care of it early tomorrow. But he could already hear Jackson complaining about the smell. He was a. High maintenence and b. Had a tweaky thing for scent. It was good thing Lydia had good taste in perfume. He could only imagine how that relationship would go if she hadn’t.

He muttered to himself as he slid his arms into his coat and made his way back down to the restaurant. It was mostly dark, the automatic lights in the front of the shop we dull, the only real source of vision was from the streetlights outside. Even still, they gave the scene an eerie, rusty color and Isaac almost prefered to have been stuck in pitch black. Outside was cold, immediately nipping at his nose and holding on to his skin. The snow had all melted by now, only leaving small thin patches here and there. The moon sat calmly in the sky, full and beautiful and illuminating. He watched it for a moment, hanging there, before the crumpling of the bag brought him back to himself. 

He grumbled as the cold quickly ran over his body, fighting its way into every fold, every crevasse. He lifted the bag from the ground and continued down into the alley. When he reached the dumpster he wrinkled his nose at the smell before scoffing at himself. Not too long ago he had been  _ living _ in one of these and now he was pulling back at the scent. But those months seemed lifetimes away. He swung the white bag into the dark and hissed as his coat rode up, revealing the skin of his hip. He needed to talk to Stiles about driving him to the mall or something to get longer clothes. He turned happily on his heel, wiping the imaginary mess from his hands on his jeans when he saw it. 

A large shadow. It was...rounded like it was hunched over and moving back and forth, like it was swaying, struggling to keep itself righted. He froze in his steps, his mind whirling with thoughts and regrets and activity. But maybe he hadn’t seen him yet. What...whatever it was. It was too big to be a human. That was for sure. And he didn’t know if it was an animal either. He didn’t know of anything that was that big living in Northern California. That was for sure. Red eyes flashed and he sucked in a sharp breath. 

Just that sound alone had the thing focusing on him. It was the low growl that made him stumble back in shock, slamming himself into the tin at the loss of his footing and sending out a large metallic echoing  _ clink _ . And fuck. If the thing hadn’t known he was there, it did now. Half of Beacon fricken Hills heard that. He scrambled back, the dirt beneath his feet skidding out underneath him. His chest felt heavy. He couldn’t breathe. The thing approached him. Slowly at first. Big and looming. It was still too far away to make out any details other than the shadow and Isaac...well at this point he kind of prefered. 

And  _ fuck _ his life was trash. Cornered in an alley. No way out.  _ Alone _ . Something further down the alley let out a wail and he turned his attention to it momentarily, hollowly hoping that it would be what saved him. But when he lifted his eyes...all he saw was red.

 

 

His whole body was numb. He felt himself drifting in and out. His head was heavy. His eyes were swollen. So was his mouth, if the uncomfortable heat of injury was anything to go by. This chest felt broken like it had been smashed through like some prop in a shitty horror film. He couldn’t feel his legs. Couldn’t move his toes. They say that’s the first thing you should try to do, check your limbs. But he supposed the disconnect was a blessing in disguise. He didn’t know if he could handle another part of himself feeling as sore and raw as the top half of him did.

And here it was. The end. He was lying in a pool of his own blood. He was  _ cold _ . He was  _ alone _ and he was surrounded by the stench of garbage. His mother used to tell him that if he got hasty he’d just end up right back where he started. And well, he whimpered, he supposed she was right. He let his eyes fall shut again. Only for a moment.

During that moment however, Derek had gotten there. He was holding Isaac to his chest, hands grappling around, trying to find the wound to stop the bleeding. Isaac wanted to tell him that there were just too many. Derek seemed to sense his awakening because now he was talking.

“--saac, okay? Stay with me.”

_ Of course _ .  _ Of course I’ll stay with you. I have no where else to go _ .

There was a shuffling of feet and a moment of angry voices floating over the top of him. He couldn’t make out who it was or what they were saying but they were saying a lot. He had a moment of clarity before sinking away again. 

“Do something!” The heavy voice demanded.

And Isaac....Isaac sort of wish he had because then...it all went dark.

 

_...I have no where else to go._   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, the return of the cliffhanger. Sorry (not sorry).
> 
> Comments are love (or you being mad at me ab the ending....some of you just haven't learned yet...)
> 
> See you guys soon x


	9. Believe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. Here's Chapter 9. Just one more to go! 
> 
> Apologies that I didn't get the chance to update before Thanksgiving, but I have a term paper due today so naturally I'd update this first....
> 
> I hope you like it!
> 
> Sincerely,  
> Cliffy Hangerton

Isaac...Isaac didn’t expect to wake up. Not really. But he thought that if he had, it would be to his mother’s smiling face. Him being wrapped in her warmth as she pulled him from the pain. Maybe he’d be back at home. Before Camden left. With him and his dad and Mom. Or even in his new apartment or in the bakery. Or at Yankee Stadium where Dad had taken he and Camden all those years before. 

The last place he expected to be was laying on a cold hard metal table, being assaulted by loud deep drums and the scent of...dog. He carefully moved his toes. And his fingers. And opened his eyes. And....fuck. What? Because there was no way in hell...

“You’re up,” a voice from his left came.

He turned accordingly to see Malia standing there in nothing but an oversized t-shirt and twigs and leaves in her hair. It was when the town vet started levitating a jar onto the top shelf in the corner was he finally convinced he fucked up somewhere and had woken up on the wrong side of the cosmos. Or he was definitely dead. Absolutely dead.

“Um...what?”

“You’re alive,” she said with a small smile.

“I uh...um, that’s...good?”  
  
She nodded stoically like she understood his reluctance, “It is,” she assured.

He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a growl. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, but he didn’t....he didn’t feel the need to flee. Not yet.

“Fucking Christ, Scott. I  _ had  _ to.”

“You can’t just go around turning people, Derek!”

“He was  _ dying!” _

He was half convinced he was hearing voices, as there was no one else in the room. His eyes shot to Malia, who only rolled hers like this was a conversation she had heard a thousand times over.

“It doesn’t matter now!” The voice...Scott, cried as he shoved himself into the room Isaac and Malia were in, Derek following glowering behind him.   
  
They looked...odd together. He sensed there was anger there. But mostly fear. And they were trying to keep themselves together the only way they knew how, and that was to was to clutch at each other like children and pull at each other’s hair.

Derek’s hard eyes softened as he met Isaac’s. And that....that was what really put him on edge.

“How do you feel?”  
  
“Alive,” he croaked after a moment.

“Good.”

“How’s your hearing?”

“Uh...normal?”  
  
“Sight?”  
  
“I...I can see fine.”  
  
“Sense of smell?”

“It smells like dog. Why?”

“He isn’t fully transformed yet,” Malia offered.  
  
“What?”  
  
“You...” Derek shifted uncomfortably for a moment before meeting his gaze, “you’re different now.”

“What...?” He asked again.

“We need Stiles to do this,” Liam groaned.

Isaac jumped at the voice, having failed to have taken notice that he was there. But Derek only shot in an annoyed glare.

“I...what is....”

“That thing is still out there,” Malia huffed, crossing her arms.

No one really seemed to take notice of the fact that she was halfway to nude...or rather cared enough to mention it, so Isaac decided to ignore it, too. Ignore...everything really. Why was he at the fucking  _ vet’s _ office. Why was Derek giving him some sort of physical? Why was he  _ alive _ ?

“It’s an Alpha,” Derek told her.

“It’s  _ creepy _ ,” Liam corrected.

“We have to get out there. It attacked Isaac so it’s in town.”

_ It _ attacked Isaac. An Alpha? An Alpha of fucking what?

Scott looked at Derek, “What do we do with Isaac?”

“Liam, can you keep an eye on him?”

“Where am I going?” Isaac asked.

“No where,” Derek assured.

“Hopefully,” Scott muttered.

“Can you handle it?”

“Yes, Alpha.”

And what? Derek?  _ Derek _ attacked him? Wait was there...was there two? There had to be. Two Alphas. And now he’s different because Derek...did  _ something _ and didn’t attack him.

He watched lazily as Derek dialed a number on his phone and if the angry cursing that went on under his breath indicated anything, it was that no one picked up.

“He isn’t answering.”

“Call him again.”  
  
“I’ve been  _ calling _ since we found Isaac, Scott!”

“Try Cora then!”  
  
There was a series of lights and eyes and just...a lot, but eventually, Mali and Liam stood, holding the two men back from each other by their shoulders.

“Calm the fuck down, Jesus,” a voice came from the doorway. 

They all turned to see Jackson lounging. Isaac shouldn’t have been surprised when Lydia appeared next to him scoffing, “If you’re done with your little pissing match, we have bigger problems. What’s Isaac doing here?”

“Derek bit him,” Scott growled.

“I had to!” He repeated as he turned towards the other man.

And what? Derek  _ bit _ him? What the fuck?

“Guys,” Lydia snapped.  
  
“I can’t get in touch with Stiles,” Derek said, if not a little desperately. And God sometimes it hurt his heart how much they loved each other. 

Lydia fixed him with a hard look, though not unkind, “I know. That’s my point. The Alpha is running through town. Cora and Stiles were leading it towards the Preserve. Trying to keep the body count down.”

“And?”  
  
“It followed them. We have to get there. Even if they’re together they can only fight it for so long.”

“Where’s Allison?”  
  
“She and Kira went to pick up wolfsbane when as soon as we figured out it was an Alpha. They’re headed right into the preserve to Stiles and Cora. We have to leave. Now.”  
  
“Jackson,” Derek barked, causing the blonde to stand up a bit straighter, “Stay with Liam and Isaac.”  
  
“But--”

“We can’t chance having both an alpha and a rogue out at the same time. I need you here.”

He set his jaw but nodded.

“Alright. Did Stiles say where he was going to lead it?”  
  
“I don’t think he really had an idea while he was fucking outrunning that thing,” Malia pointed out.

“Best bet’s the Hale house. We can start from there.”

There was a unanimous agreement that had them all headed towards the door. Lydia gave Jackson a peck on the cheek which he returned and then, with one last look at Isaac Derek turned on his heel and the others followed.

What?

He looked to Jackson who was leaning against the wall, his eyes trained on him.

“What now?”

He shrugged, “We wait.”

 

In the end, they didn’t do much waiting. The vet--Deaton, came in and asked him a few questions similar to the ones Derek had and then left without so much as an explanation. Liam kept flashing his glow in the dark eyes at him, seemingly hoping for a response, but none came. The only thing Isaac had figured out was that they were some kind of supernatural creatures of the night and that they thought Isaac was one now too because Derek had...bit him. And god, he hoped he wasn’t a vampire. He  _ hated _ Twilight and he loved the beach  _ way _ too much. He didn’t bother to ask, still too shocked that he was even  _ alive _ . Why question it? He’d ask Stiles when he saw him.

And as if the thought had brought the universe forth, not three seconds later the swinging doors slammed open revealing Cora, bloody and torn open, dragging an equally ruined Stiles.

Jackson ran over to them quickly, immediately followed by Liam.

“Christ Stilinski,” the older man grunted as he took him from Cora’s grasp and led him to the other metal table.

“He’s fine,” Cora hissed as Liam lowered her into the chair he had been sitting in previous, “bitched the whole way about getting blood on his jeep.”

“Will you heal?” Liam asked.

“Eventually. Is Deaton here?”

“Yes,” the man answered for himself as he appeared right behind Isaac.

Stiles’ gaze shot over to the man and he looked alarmed, “What the fuck.”  
  
“Derek bit him,” Liam tossed out both nonchalantly and wearily.

Stiles met Isaac’s eyes, his own large and...scared? He offered a shrug in response.

“And it took?” He asked as he tried to struggle out of Jackson’s hands who seemed to be looking him over for injuries.

“He’s awake, isn’t he?”

“Mm,” he agreed before jumping, “ _ Fuck _ Jackson!”

“Ribs,” he tells Deaton who just nodded over by the cabinet of levitating shit.

“Derek’s been trying to call you.”

“The fucker threw me into a tree. My phone broke.”  
  
“Did you hit your head, Mr. Stilinski?”  
  
“Um...”  
  
“I’ll take that as a yes. And a sprained ankle. Where’s the blood coming from?”

“Few cuts. Most of it’s from Cora, though.”

Isaac’s eyes shot to where she sat, now only in her sports bra and leggings, a giant gash in her side. He was sure he could see the blue and grey of organs but he didn’t look long enough to confirm nor deny. He focused back on Stiles who had a split lip and a bruise already forming on his cheek.

Deaton handed Liam some black powder, instructing him to blow it on the wound before he made his way to Stiles and held out a clear glass filled with a translucent green liquid. The man made a face before drinking it. Jackson took the glass from his hands once it was empty.

“I’ll call Derek. Let him know you two are alive.”

“Tell him the thing was by the ravine when Kira and Allison showed up.”

He nodded and went to reach for his phone when a huge crash of glass filled the room. They all shared a look for panic before the...the  _ thing _ flew into the room, clawing into Jackson and throwing him across the room. Stiles scurried over to the cabinet Deaton had been at only moments before, dragging Isaac behind him. He seemed to be looking for something but Isaac was more focused on where Cora and Liam were trading blows with the...the  _ Alpha _ that was twice the size of both of them combined. And fuck. If that was what Isaac was going to turn into, he would have rather that Derek  _ let  _ him die. He was torn from the action when Stiles grabbed onto his sleeve and pulled him outside to the back of the building.

“Where...where are we going?”  
  
“You need to leave,” he gasped, shoving at Isaac with both hands.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Go. Find Derek. Run.”

“I can’t just...I don’t know where Derek is. What...the thing.”  
  
“Just go Isaac! Start running. Trust me. You’ll find him.”  
  
“But--”

There was another sound of shattering glass and objects as the Alpha ripped out of the building and charged straight towards them.

“Go!” Stiles screamed over the growl.

Isaac’s eyes widened as the other man lifted his hands which were admitting a strange glow. Isaac was frozen in fear as he watched the Alpha run at an unflinching Stiles. It bounced back a few steps, as if it had hit a wall. And then charged again and again and again. With every point of contact Stiles stumbled back a few steps in sync with a deep vibration Isaac felt run heavily through his chest.

Something seemed to break after that. Stiles let out a pained yelp as he clutched his wrist to his chest. He tried to straighten up and reach for the bat he had grabbed sometime during their journey between inside the vet’s office and here, but the thing was quicker. It swatted at him, sending him flying across the flat grassed area before the forest. It didn’t even spare Isaac a second look before stumbling over to where Stiles was struggling to stand. And before Isaac even knew what was happening, he was following.

“Fucking  _ run, _ Isaac. Get Derek!”

But he couldn’t. Not even at that direct demand. He was scared. Fucking shitless. There was this thing. That killed him. He was pretty sure he killed him, anyway. And somehow he was alive. He was confused and panicking and wanted to fucking forget everything that had happened in the past three hours. 

But there was something else now. Something stronger than all of that. 

Like a primal instinct rising to the surface.  _ Save _ .  _ Protect _ .  _ Protect Stiles _ . He needed to keep Stiles safe. He...it was the only thing he could think about. Only thing he  _ could _ do. 

He let out a growl from his core and planted himself in front of Stiles.  _ Keep. Safe _ . It was only at Stiles’ pained cry and when the claws of the Alpha cut through him that he realized what was happening. He was....dying. Again. But he had...he had done what he was supposed to. 

He clamped his eyes shut, not wanting to see where he knew Derek had flown in a moment later ripping into the Alpha with the rest of them. He was tired of all this already. The blood and death and injury. He was...tired. 

He only let his eyes fall open when he felt shaking hands grab him. He met Stiles’ tearful expression as the boy brushed back Isaac’s matted hair. He didn’t know what it was matted with...sweat maybe. Probably blood. He didn’t want to know. The man offered him a weak smile.

Isaac just stared back with blue eyes. He swallowed, “Am I going to die?”

Stiles shook his head, wiping at his nose with the back of his free hand, “No,” his voice cracked, “No, you’ll be okay.”

He wanted to call bullshit. There was no fucking way he was going to survive this. He felt the wetness of blood flowing out of him. It was surprisingly sticky and wholesome. He briefly worried that grass or leaves or something would be stuck to him, but it was quickly replaced by the burning of the wound. And maybe...maybe death wouldn’t be so bad if it ended the pain.

“B-but...” He protested, eyes slipping shut.

“Believe me,” Stiles begged.

And he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm not strong in writing action, so any helpful tips you guys could share in regards to anything will be very helpful.
> 
> And thank you all again for the support and to everyone who's leaving comments and making me smile!! You guys are seriously the best.
> 
> I hope to see you guys soon for the end!
> 
> Lots of Love & Lots of Sterek   
> xoxo


	10. Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...it's finals week...so instead of studying for my Statistics Exam....here we are, again. Posting not one but two parts to this work. There's a direct correlation with the amount of responsibility I have and how much fanfiction I write. So if you ever want another work or update, just pray my Professors dump a load of work on me. You won't be disappointed.
> 
> Anyways...here we are. The end. I'll save my usual sappy thanks for the next chapter. But thank you, really for coming back.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy!

He becomes aware that he’s alive when he moves his left foot. 

He had been having a dream. A deep one. About monsters with long teeth and glowing eyes. He remembers being scared. Being terrified actually. And then he remembered the smell of blood. And darkness. A lot of darkness.

He feels like he's swimming in honey. Trying to reach the small hole of light that seems to be forever away. He’s not even sure if it is a light. It could just be a small speck for all he knew. But it was different. It was something other than the darkness he was surrounded in. His chest tightened in anticipation. But he kept moving. The thickness of the darkness flowing past him. It felt like nothing but all too much at the same time.

He kept moving.

The ache of his muscles, though he knew it was there, could not reach him. He was safe in this sort of limbo. But it was dark. And Isaac hated the dark. But even more so, it was the solitude. That deep routed panic that bit at the back of his mind that this would be his forever. The irrational idea that always seemed to grasp him when Erica and Boyd left the apartment without him or when Stiles left him alone to clean up or sometimes even when he was in a room by himself. He was used to this process. But this time it seemed that maybe...maybe it could be real. So he kept going. Closer and closer. But the light was not coming to him. It seemed galaxies away and light years beyond plausible time. For if he ever did reach it, he was sure he would be dead.

He was near giving up but it was that biting thought kept him moving. His last thought went to his mother and her warm smile.

It was a memory. The sun was shining down on them as they sat on the front porch of Isaac’s old him. His father, untouched by addiction and rage stood behind them, lounging against the door, a cup of coffee in his hand. Camden was there, too. He wore a backpack that was too big for him and Isaac idly remember trying to stuff himself in it only moments before. A bus came into view and Camden let out a high pitched hoot of excitement. His mother reached out and planted a kiss on his cheek that had his older brother screeching and pulling away.

“Lipstick,” he reminded, but his mother just laughed.

Next, he reached out to ruffle Isaac’s hair, “See you later, I-zzack,” and turned to go.

The same feeling of fear seized him from moments ago in the darkness. He was being left. He was...Camden was leaving him alone. He remembered reaching out and letting a sob escape his chest. His heart was breaking and his face was wet. He didn’t want to be alone. 

He didn’t want to be alone. 

He didn’t want to be alone. 

He didn’t want to be alone. 

But soon the scene vanished and it was only him, again in the darkness. 

Reaching for that spot. The distant one. All alone. 

He felt himself slow, his resolve fall away. He was giving up. It was pointless. 

He was done. 

It was over. 

He was alone. 

And then the light came all at once.

 

 

His eyes flew open with a gasp. But he forced himself to still in fear he would awaken to the monster with big scary eyes. 

The monster....it was clear now that it wasn’t a part of some fucked up dream. No.

He blinked up at a cream colored ceiling. He allowed his eyes to wander over the paint and linger on the parts of overlapping and swirling that couldn’t be helped. It was when the brightness subsided into a tolerable light did he tune into his environment and senses.

He had been laid out on a couch. A much bigger improvement than the metal table he remembers being cold against his back. He felt the pull of bandages at his skin, yet no wound underneath. His clothes had been changed. As he felt dry and no longer sticky and wet from blood.

He rolled his head over, now aware he was in a secure place, at least for now, and his heart stopped. Relief flooded through his body. His lungs deflated, his heart skipped and a coolness rushed over him. He felt his eyes water upon reflex at just how relieved he was to see Stiles Stilinski there. Whole and in one piece.

 

He was curled into Derek’s side, bandages and bruised peeking out from under what he assumed was Derek’s oversized Beacon Hill Police Department tshirt. His head lay on his husband’s shoulder while his knees were tucked securely to his chest. Derek’s strong arm looped around his husband, keeping him securely in place while his own head rested on top of Stiles’. They were both fast asleep, breathing low and evenly. And fuck. He does remember Stiles being there. His shaky hands trying to hold Isaac together by what seemed to be, at the time, the sheer force of will. He remembers. And it’s likely that he’d never forget. But he also remembers the bad shape Stiles was in himself. Broken ribs, bad ankle, bloody forehead wound. And he has an inkling of Stiles passing out right next to him after he whispered calming words into Isaac’s bloody hair. But then again, everything had been a little fuzzy and just a little too warm and he couldn’t remember much of anything. 

He wants to reach out and touch him. To make sure this was all real. And he was already sitting up, his hand reaching forward when a pointed cough made him pause. He swung his gaze to see Allison in the doorway. She looked exhausted, bags under her eyes, dressed in a tshirt and sweatpants, hair in a messy bun and eyes just a bit swollen from what Isaac has come to recognize as sleep.

“I wouldn’t recommend that. Even in his sleep Derek would bite your hand off.”

He looked between the slumbering couple and her for a moment before cautiously pulling his hand back because Derek biting his hand off? Yeah, he’d believe it. 

She threw him a kind smile and gestured for him to follow her into the kitchen. She guided him to sit down across from a waiting Scott in a second and had a mug of strong coffee in front of him in the next.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, taking the seat next to the man.

“Fine. Confused?”

She smiled encouragingly at him, “That’s okay.”

“What...what happened?”

“Well, apparently Cora and Stiles proved to be a better fight than Kira and I had. When we met up with them, they were both in pretty bad shape so we sent them back to Deaton’s. We thought they would meet up with the others and send them our way. But it got the jump on us and followed them back to town. Then...well, you know the rest. It attacked you and Jackson, Cora, Liam. Stiles.”

He jumped when he felt something graze his leg. He looked down and worked to calm his beating heart that he was sure now that everyone could hear, when he saw it was Nameless--which Stiles had excitedly names Mr. Mistoffelees after a long night of drinking. It was either that or Merlin, which had Derek looking like he swallowed a quarter at the mention of the name, so he had gotten away with it. He picked him up and set him in his lap which he quickly curled up and licked at his paws.

“Is...is everyone okay?”  
  
She nodded, “Yeah. I wasn’t hurt too bad at all. And, well the others heal. Except for Stiles. He’s really the one to worry about. But hardly anymore. Melissa’s going to swing by in a few hours, anyway.”  
  
“And...and the Alpha?” He asked, somewhat sheepishly.

He chanced a look at Scott who was staring at him from across the table stoically, as he had been since he was placed there.

“Taken care of,” Allison promised, reaching out and taking on of Isaac’s hands in her own.

He blinked. Just like that.

“Just like that,” she smiled.

He had been unaware he had spoken out loud but the reassurance was much needed, apparently. He swallowed.  
  
“So you’re all...you know?”

And no. He didn’t know. He still had no fucking idea. But...he’d play along, he guessed.

“Werewolves,” Scott deadpanned and Isaac choked on his coffee.

Mr. Mistoffelees mewed in discomfort before jumping off and stalking into the other room. And um, what?  
  
He hardly caught his laugh. Because vampires? He could maybe believe. But werewolves? Creatures of the moon? Lunar beings? No fucking way. He wasn’t sure what the difference in the parallels that held his nonfiction was, but he was sure it existed. And he was all too sure it fucking existed, too. But then Scott’s eyes glowed yellow and fangs elongated from his gums and he was sprouting unruly sideburns and claws and oops. Yep. that was a werewolf. Straight out of London. Okay...so maybe more Michael Keaton version-eque. But fuck it was a _ werewolf _ .

“And me...”  
  
“You’re one now, too.”

“Oh,” was his genius response.

Something crossed Allison’s face but Scott was quick to bite out an apology.

“No, no. It’s okay. I mean...I’d rather be some mythical were-beast then dead.”

Allison let out an airy chuckle while Scott just frowned. Now that he was awake and not...yet freaking out about being a werewolf...he was hungry. And just like that a muffin appeared in front of him. He felt his eyes widen, already scheming up the possibilities of werewolfism if creating food from thin air came as a bonus to the spooky glowing eyes and such. The disappointment settled when he saw Lydia pull her hand away. And there was a thought...Lydia Martin with claws. Yikes. She sat herself next to him and he couldn’t help but flinch.

“Eat,” she suggested.

And Isaac wasn’t going to be asked twice. After he had driven his way through four or five whole grain and blueberry muffins he managed to unstick his mouth to ask, “So...like you guys have been this way forever?”

Scott shook his head, “No. The Hales are the only ones who were born wolves. Everyone else, Me, Jackson and Liam were bitten. Like you.”

“So the rest of you?”

“Kira is a kitsune. She's like...a fox. She controls electricity. Malia’s a coyote. Lydia’s a banshee.”

“Allison?”

“She’s our resident badass,” Lydia smirks.

“I was trained as a hunter.”

“Like....okay so not deer?”

“No. Not deer. Werewolves specifically.”

Isaac swallowed, “Oh.”

“I obviously don’t. But I’m trained in combat against Supernatural creatures.”

“So...resident badass. Got it. And...Stiles?”  
  
Lydia’s brow furrowed at that over her coffee mug, “We don’t really know. He’s human. But can control a little magic. Deaton called him a Spark. But that’s really the extent of our knowledge.”

“So he’s magic.”

Scott shrugged, “Yeah.”

“So how...I mean...there are more of you... _ us _ out there, right?”  
  
“Yeah. All over the world.”

“Vampires?”

“Yep.”  
  
“And like...unicorns.”  
  
Lydia narrowed her eyes at him, “Why don’t you save all these questions for Stiles. He’s a walking encyclopedia of gross things.”  
  
“Unicorns aren’t gross,” Scott countered.

“How do you know? Last I read, they sacrifice virgins. That sounds pretty messy to me.”

“Messy. Not gross.”

“Twenty foot long intestines dumped all over the floor seems pretty gross to me, Scott.”

And Isaac was really regretting that fifth muffin, now.

“Either way, Isaac. What you really need to know is that being a werewolf definitely comes with its advantages. Speed, strength, stamina. Your hearing will amplify, you’ll be able to smell things like sweat and fear and from far away, too. You’ll be agile and confident. But there are setbacks too. You need to learn control. The lunar cycle controls you. Just like in the movies, you’ll be irritable during full moons. You have to learn how to anchor yourself and not shift randomly or every time something annoys you. You have to keep this part of you a secret. No one can know. It puts you and your pack...that’s us...at risk, Allison being exhibit A. Because if you think all hunters are as cute as she is, you’re sorely mistaken. And pack is everything. You may not know it now, but it is. It drives you. It anchors you. It’s your whole existence. And that can either be good or bad. But as far as I’m concerned,” Lydia’s gaze flickered to Stiles and Derek in the other room, “you pretty much lucked out in that area. But the most important thing to realize, is that you have a responsibility now. To us, and to the rest of the world. I hate to quote Marvel, that’s more Stiles’ thing, but “With great power comes great responsibility.” You saw that thing last night, right? How it tore through an entire building without so much as a scratch? We need to protect Beacon Hills of these things. We have to keep people safe. It’s our job. We...we brought these things here and now we have to keep them out.”

Isaac nodded, stress balling up in his chest.

Allison’s soft hand on top of his made him jump, “It doesn’t happen often, anymore. But when it does, it’s our job to stop them. We’ll teach you. Don’t worry. But it’s a big responsibility.”  
  
He looked down, “What if...what if I don’t want to?” he asked quietly.

Scott growled and he jumped back in surprise, “Then you become an Omega. Which is worse than all of this. They’re seen as the scum. The ones who couldn’t keep a pack. The Throwaways. And hunters  _ flock  _ to them. You live life on the run. And if you manage getting away, you slowly deteriorate because you don’t have an anchor. Wolves are stronger in a pack. So you’re either stuck here fighting with us or you die.”  
  
“Scott,” Allison snapped.

“He’s right,” Lydia lamented.

“Of course I’m right. You don’t get a choice, Isaac. You’re hunted down either way. It’s just your choice whether you want to do it on the run or as a sitting duck.”

With those words Scott turned on his heel and strode out the back door. Allison shot the remaining pair an apologetic look before throwing on a sweatshirt and hurrying after him. Isaac didn’t move. 

So he had the option to...leave. And he was sure Stiles would send him off with warm clothes and a tin full of warm food with an open invitation for holidays and visits. But...life on the run? Wasn’t that the kind of life he had been living in the first place? He had finally gotten a family of sorts. People who cared and supported him and waitws to see his test scores and put muffins in front of his face and ordered pizzas for him and talked and laughed and cried with him? He had finally gotten what he had always wanted. And now....what? He was going to let a little fear get in his way of  _ keeping _ that? Fuck no. He was holding on to this with everything he had. Both hands. Claws and gross sideburns and all. Because if anything...this family he had...this  _ pack _ was worth it. Being loved and wanted and cared for? Was worth it all. Stiles had told him to run but he had stayed. Camden always used to say that he’d never know for sure what kind of person he was, or what he would do unless he was actually put in a situation. Isaac had always shrugged it off, convinced it was an “old person” answer for “I don’t want to play your hypothetical games of what-would-you-do’s and would-you-rather” but now....now he maybe understood it. Because if that’s what he would do when he barely understood the stakes....he was confident that this new found knowledge would only amplify those actions in the future. 

And hell, if Stiles was magic? He had to stick around to see that shit.

“-saac? Isaac?”

He jumped back into reality to meet curious green eyes.

“Sorry.”

She shrugged indiffernently in true Lydia fashion and sat back in her chair, content to have just gotten his attention.

“So why is Scott so...” he flung a hand up, hoping she’d understand.

She did.

She launched into a tale that began around their sophomore year of high school. 

There were Alphas and dead bodies, hunters and Peter Hale. There were stories of a Kanima (Jackson) and Argents and the death of Allison’s mother.  She went back far enough to tell of the Hale Fire and even further back to tell of Paige and Derek and Talia. She told him of the nemeton. The kidnapping of their parents. The shifting of power, Scott’s brief stint as a True Alpha, Cora nearly dying, Peter being not a zombie, Peter being a zombie. An Alpha Pack and the Darach (he had always been wary of English teachers). The Nogitsune and Chimeras. Derek coming and going. The Desert Wolf. Of Eichen house and the dread doctors. Of (more) Alphas, coupled with Nazi’s and beserkers and chimeras, and Theo and The Ghost Riders. In college there had been Witches and Wraiths, Giant Spiders and Demons. There was the time Stiles died and came back to life and the time Derek had disappeared for two years before coming back and sweeping Stiles off his feet. She told him of the time Jackson still had some residue of the Kanima in his system and how hunters had been tracking him down for months before trying to get the jump on him at a frat party nonetheless. 

She told him their story.

She wrapped it up perfectly in present day leaving Isaac gaping. She gave him a small smile at the expression.

“You guys deserve like...a novel.”  
  
“A television show’s more like it.”

He nodded dumbly.  
  
“Why don’t you go lie back down. You’ll need all the rest you can to heal all those wounds. Stiles usually has a salve for Alpha wounds, but...well, he’s out of commission at the moment.”  
  
“He’ll be alright,” he stated as Lydia guided him to lay back down on the couch.

“He’ll be alright,” she confirmed.

And there must have been something in his coffee because at that, his eyes shut.  


 

 

  
When he wakes again, it’s to voices.

“Shut up!”  
  
“Make me.”  
  
“There is mountain ash in my bedroom Whittemore, don’t make me get up.”

Isaac’s eyes blink open at that and his gaze immediately zeros in on where Stiles is sitting up slowly and sorely on the couch. When their eyes meet, Stiles gives him a goofy grin.

“I told you that you wouldn’t die. How do you feel?”  
  
“Better than you,” he says pointedly.

“Look at that,” he says a bit sardonically, though his grin is still in place, “he’s already picking up on that belittling human werewolf sense of humor. How’d that happen?”

Scott shakes his head from the kitchen doorway and walks over to help Stiles stand.  Isaac quickly joins them towards the kitchen where, judging from the noise, most of the other are.

“So I hear you got the rundown on our adventures via Lydia.”

“And I hear you’re magic.”

He snorts at that and Isaac makes a face before blurting out, “Are unicorns real?”

 

It’s nearing the later part of the day when people start leaving. Lydia and Jackson take Liam, who’s been sitting at the table with Isaac for the past hour, explaining to him how claws generally work and telling him hilarious stories of his first few months as a wolf and how great, yet impatient, teachers Stiles and Scott were as Kira and Malia follow them out. Cora apparently had a room she was utilizing upstairs and Scott and Allison seemed they would be staying a bit longer, if them crashing on the couch was any indication. They had all promised to meet and flush out further discussion and detail tomorrow after work and then it was quiet. The murmur of daytime television bleakly filled the house and currently, Isaac was more focused on his Alpha (or so Lydia had told him Derek now was) and Stiles.

“You need to go back to sleep,” he was telling the human, gingerly helping him stand from the kitchen chair.

“I’m fine.”  
  
“Please, Stiles. You need rest. We...I almost lost you, okay? And I’ll be damned if you go out by infection.”

Stiles chuckled and planted an easy kiss on Derek’s jaw, "I'm okay."

“Please,” he repeated.

After a moment and a drawn out sigh he nodded. He led him over to the couch Isaac had been inhabiting a few hours before and laid him down. A kiss to Stiles’ forehead and the petting of his hair had him drifting off in seconds and for the second time, Isaac wondered if he should be worried about drugged coffee now, as well as becoming a creature of the night.

To his surprise, Derek doesn’t climb the stairs or curl up on the couch next to his husband. Instead, he saunters into the kitchen and pours himself a cup of coffee. Black. And Isaac would have chortled at the predictability of it if he hadn’t just heard the tragic life story of Derek Hale. Because fuck, it out did Isaac’s own...tenfold. As far as Derek was concerned, he had a written excuse for every bad day, bad comment, bar fight, traumatic kill...whatever it was....for the rest of his life.

The man turned and leaned back on the counter. Isaac half expected him to to flash his red eyes and “alpha” him into doing the dishes or mopping the floor. But the man only stared. For a long time. Until Isaac finds himself staring back. Not in a challenging way. God, no. Not in a confronting way, either. Just in curiosity. And fear. And maybe a little bit in hope, as well. He was about to lose his mind. Break from the long drawn out silence and anticipation, when he finally speaks.

“Thank you.”

Isaac furrowed his brow. If he had been thinking straight, he would have maybe thanked him back...for saving his life. Or maybe asked what it was that Derek Hale could be possibly thanking him for. Maybe he’d ask about being an Alpha or what it meant now that he was a beta. But there had been one thing running rampant ithrough his mind ever since he had woken up and learned that Derek had turned him....bitten him....had saved him.

“I thought you hated me.”

If Isaac had been paying attention, he would have seen the slight flinch that ran across the man’s face. But instead, he only saw him set his jaw and purse his lips. In another stretched out silence, he pulls his chair out and sits across from Isaac. He studies him again, like an answer on a test he  _ knows _ the answer to but doesn’t want to screw up due to carelessness.

“Stiles likes you,” he offered.

Isaac can feel the sour look morph his face, “That doesn’t--”

Derek cuts him off before he can finish, “Stiles...Stiles  _ trusts _ you...and I trust Stiles.”  
  
And for some reason, that Isaac couldn’t quite pin down and analyze just yet...that made sense. It made everything...better. It was an answer Isaac could take and understand and be okay with. So he nodded.

“And you more than proved yourself tonight, Isaac. Thank you,” he said again before looking over at his sleeping husband and adding, “for keeping him safe.”

This time when Isaac nods, it’s fierce and with purpose, “I know he would have done the same for me.”

When he looks up at the silence, Derek's smiling softly down into his coffee, “Yeah," he agrees before taking a small sip, "Yeah, he would have."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know about you...but I think that's a bit of Character Development I see in Derek Hale. And yes, I DID name the cat Mr. Mistoffelees because I just saw Cats on Broadway and have been listening to the soundtrack ever since.
> 
> Well, that's all folks. 
> 
> Join me for the epilogue, why don't you?
> 
> Lots of Love & Lots of Sterek 
> 
> ~midnight xoxo


	11. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said it before and I'm becoming redundant...but this fic was only supposed to be 5 to 6k words. Whoops. I suck? I'm sorry? I know? I have no explanation and a lot of regrets. But I hope you guys liked it anyway.
> 
> It's been a journey, I tell ya. And finishing up this fic has put me on the grind to finish off and polish up some of my old work I've abandoned due to lack of inspiration. If you've been reading, you know this piece was a bit of a struggle for me. But finishing it now, on a snowy Sunday night at 2 am only proves to myself that...well, kiddo, you pushed through writer's block once...you can do it again. And you guys really helped me along. So thank you!
> 
> The Epilogue's a bit short. Nothing too special and nothing too detailed. I wanted to wrap it all up with a bow and slide it in the mail for yall. If there are any lose ends you're wondering about, please let me know and I'll try to answer them or add it into the Chapter.
> 
> I really hope you guys enjoyed the read!!
> 
> Lots of Love & Lots of Sterek x

It’s about a year later that Boyd and Erica find themselves with the bite. To be fair, it’s hard living in the same apartment as someone and not giving way to one’s....monthly habits. They had busted all of them when Isaac had tried to sneak away for a full moon and had tailed him all the way to the cabin in the Preserve. After giving them the same rundown Isaac had gotten after the bite they still wholeheartedly wanted it...wanted to belong. When Derek agreed, Scott disappeared for three full days. And when he returned, no one said a word about it.

 

Over that time, Isaac had learned to control his wolf. Derek and Scott train them on the weekends in control and in their new abilities while the rest of the pack ran through their own workouts throughout the Preserve. They learned to partially shift, just their eyes, their claws, their fangs, and to fully change into beta mode. Erica got a kick out of the claws but lamented her loss of a manicure for a week after she had first accidentally shifted in their apartment when Boyd ate her left overs. Boyd, unsurprisingly, was cool as a cucumber. His eyes were an electric blue color, though, only matching with Derek’s and Jackson’s. No one asked for the story and he didn’t offer any insight on it, either.

 

Isaac found an anchor in his pack. He enjoyed the tidbit of glowing eyes and the small gentle burn that came along with it. He loved to flash them haughtily around at his packmates until they would snap their jaws or snarl him into submission.

 

The next creature that came into Beacon Hills had been a family of hunters. Apparently, they had heard about Derek turning new wolves and building his pack. It ended with a messy fight with Argent reinforcements coming in and vouching for them. Either way, Erica ended up with a broken arm and Isaac experienced his first bout of Wolfsbane poisoning. Stiles had been cast into the shadows during this particular fight, as according to Chris, his abilities, along with Lydia’s were far too much for the Hunting World to handle yet and he, nor Derek, wanted to risk a full-fledged attack on Beacon Hills for housing unknown hybrids that they didn’t know what to do with. Isaac had his suspicions that Derek would have readily agreed with anything Chris Argent was about to say if it meant keeping Stiles safe and from fighting, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.

 

He and Derek had gotten close. Like baseball games and Sunday Night Football close with Boyd. Conversation ran easily. He learned to understand Derek's silences and fears and Derek learned to trust him around his pack...Stiles specifically. And even if they weren’t really compatible in personality or as chosen friends, they were pack. And that ran deeper and it meant more. And every time Stiles would see them together, though it had been years now, he’d give off a little spurt of happiness and the scent of fresh grass and even if Derek never mentioned it, Isaac knew the residing blush was from that.

 

He and Liam both decided to study Criminal Justice at Beacon Hills Community College. They wanted to become a cop. Just like their Alpha.

 

It had been five years since Isaac had attempted to rob  _ Claudia’s _ . Four since his life had been turned upside down by werewolves and kitsune and banshees and coyotes. And well...Stiles and Derek had taught him a lot since then.

 

They taught him how to control his shift. How to let the moon be a trigger instead of a bullet.

They taught him pack dynamics and bonds and about werewolf politics. 

They taught him how to fight, to resist, to protect. 

They taught him how to run the cash register and how to wait tables. 

They taught him how to bake and to cook and to clean. 

They taught him how to smile and how to laugh. To be happy, again. 

They taught him how to be a part of something. To be part of a family, of a pack. 

They taught him about being cared for and caring for others. 

They taught him about devotion and passion and strength.

 

And maybe most importantly...

They taught him about love. 

 

And that love...love is kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly? The ending made me GAG. It was kind of TOO much...but it ties everything together and this fic was basically a huge mistake so why should the ending be any different?
> 
> Like I said in the last chapter, it's finals week. So you should all distract me by reloading my arsenal of constructive criticism via the comments section (pretty please?). But really. Let me know what you liked, what you didn't like, what you'd like to see more of, any of my annoying writer habits you'd liked to see nixed...I can only get better and create better content if you guys give me feedback...so for my sake and for yours...I'd love to hear what you have to say.
> 
> And...one last thing before you go...I have a new method of sending me prompts and requests. And yes, it's old-fashioned email. Or rather Google+ (https://plus.google.com/u/2/103558757868694873245 < THAS ME :D ). 
> 
> I just started using it and am going to start posting updates about my fics there...if it's on time, if I'm working on a prompt, if the update's going to be late...I know I'm not some huge fanfic writer that people like...are waiting on baited breath for my next work, but I think it's kind of a cool way for me to connect more with you guys, since you're literally the reason and the drive for all these fics (along with, of course, my guilty pleasures and fantasies, but you know). So hop on over and +1 it if you visit and let me know if you guys think it's utterly stupid or if it's kind of an okay idea? 
> 
> And winter break's coming up so email any prompts or requests you may have ASAP (midnightcas24@gmail.com).
> 
> I'm also thinking of maybe starting an original work on here...I've seen people do it but idk...is that something you'd maybe even be interested in reading? Let me know?
> 
> But...
> 
> Thank you again, for your love and support, your inspiration and imagination, your kindness and your heart eyes for Sterek (and tolerance for my writing, of course). I owe all my fanfic happiness to you guys who keep coming back for me and my rabbles. You're all wonderful, amazing, beautiful people. Every kudos, comment, bookmark, subscription is a smile, an encouragement to keep writing and a push to be better. So thank you, all, really. From the bottom of my heart.
> 
> And if I don't see you guys again, have a great Holiday and spend it with YOUR pack, no matter who they may be.
> 
> So much love to you all.
> 
> ~midnight

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading. I'd love to hear what you guys thought of it!
> 
> Anyway, here's the link this fic is based on....
> 
> www.littlethings.com/homeless-man-gets-a-job/?utm_sources=kit&utm_medium=Facebook&utm_campaign=miracles
> 
> ....with of course a lot of imagination and embellishments. But really it is a heartwarming story that I really took to and found a lot of inspiration in.
> 
> I sincerely hope you liked the fic. But above everything else...stay kind.


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